


Mrs. Beauchamp

by balfey, curlsgetdemgurls



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: 60s AU, Claire Beauchamp - Freeform, F/M, Jamie Fraser - Freeform, Outlander - Freeform, Oxford, jamie x claire, twenty years age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-06-03 22:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19473580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balfey/pseuds/balfey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlsgetdemgurls/pseuds/curlsgetdemgurls
Summary: Everyone knew a couple of things about Mrs. Beauchamp.She taught on campus three days a week while the rest was spent doing selected surgeries in a renowned hospital in London. She was a former combat nurse. She was also the first woman enrolled at Harvard Medical, in Boston, back in the late forties, and one of the few practising cardiology in the world these days. Other than these pieces of information, not much else about the Oxford professor was known to Jamie.Except for the fact that Claire Beauchamp was twenty years his senior.





	1. Bewitching

**Author's Note:**

> We're finally back with a new story! 
> 
> We hope you like it and let us know what you think about this first chapter! Updates every Tuesday & Thursday :)

James Fraser remembered the very first time his eyes landed on Mrs. Beauchamp. It had been his first day at Oxford, two years ago _– on a cold and crisp October day._ She walked by him in the hall, wearing her signature _Burberry_ trench coat and a pair of black pointy-toe stilettos, which made a peculiar noise on the marble floor. He remembered turning his head at the sound and his eyes coming directly in contact with the medical professor. 

_Something, at the time, that felt like a punch right into his gut._

He had frozen and blinked like an idiot, staring at her who didn’t seem to have noticed him, at all. She didn’t seem to notice how every other man in the hall was looking at her, either. She didn’t seem to care. Mrs. Beauchamp simply walked straight towards the medical department and disappeared behind a wooden door, leaving behind the trace of her charms. 

Beautiful beyond compare. There was an air of sophistication about her that intrigued him. Always dressed impeccably, in beige or white. Always a pair of high heels or brown oxfords. Her leather satchel resting on her shoulder. A dab of red lipstick on her cheekbones. Jamie was drawn to her – _her smile, her eyes, her confidence._ But there was something different about her compared to all the other women he had met in his twenty years on this earth. 

_She was every man’s fantasy._

With wild brown curls he wanted to run his fingers into. Porcelain skin he wanted to carve with kisses. Mile-long legs he wanted to spread open. He had heard her voice once. One brief time at the library _– the sound warm and raspy like whisky going down his throat back in Scotland._ He had imagined many times the way his name would sound escaping from her lips. Everything about Mrs.Beauchamp fascinated him. And the cloud of mystery surrounding her didn’t help much his curiosity. 

Everyone knew a couple of things about Mrs. Beauchamp. She was a medical professor three days a week. The rest was spent doing selected surgeries in a prestigious hospital in London. She was a former combat nurse. She was also the first woman enrolled at Harvard Medical, in Boston, back in the late forties, and one of the few practising cardiology in the world these days. Other than this information, nothing else about the professor was known to Jamie. 

The Scot was also very aware Claire Beauchamp was twenty years his senior. It was just a crush, he told himself as he watched her walk across campus one morning. 

Jamie was a history major at Oxford University and had been tasked with an assignment to interview a WWII veteran. The first person that popped into his head was Professor Beauchamp _– not that he needed an excuse to think about her, anyway._ He’d been almost painfully aware of her presence from the moment he stepped on campus. His mates teased him relentlessly for his crush on her. The girl he’d been seeing for the past couple of months also teased him about the older woman. Charlotte never said she was jealous of Professor Beauchamp and the way she attracted Jamie’s attention, but she did make small comments here and there. 

Nevertheless, this assignment was the perfect occasion to finally talk to her. Because besides his attraction to the older woman, there was a fascination. _Respect and even awe._ He wanted to know everything about her and how she got to do so many trailblazing things in her life. 

Most days, Jamie could almost forget about Professor Beauchamp, as his classes were in a different department than the one she taught. He was a good student, always turning his assignments in on time and receiving them back with excellent marks. But sometimes - _\- just sometimes –_ he’d hear those heels on the marble floor and see her walk by, bringing with her all his fantasies back to the surface. 

Two years ago, he had moved to Oxford from a small town in Scotland called Broch Mordha. He was one of the few Scottish students at the University and also one of the few students with flaming red hair that made him stand out amongst his peers. Added to his impressive height, he was very hard to miss. Except for Mrs. Beauchamp, it seemed. _Maybe it was better this way?_ He didn’t know what he would say to her if they ever started a conversation where he was unprepared for it. His palms were sweaty at the sheer idea of such a situation. 

Jamie carefully crafted his plan of asking Mrs. Beauchamp for an interview. He’d go up to her office, calmly knock on the door and wait for an answer. If she wasn’t there, he would come back some other time and try again. The moment she would finally come face to face with him, he would introduce himself and his project. He hoped she would say yes. _He prayed, actually._

No amount of preparation had been enough. 

The Scot stood by the door – his eyes glued on the golden plate on it reading: “Professor C.E.Beauchamp”. He was frozen, his hand in the air, a few inches away from the oak wood. _Shaky_. 

_“Pull yerself together, Christ!”_ He mumbled, careful not to be loud for anyone to hear him. He had no idea what finally came over him but courage rose up and he watched his hand closed into a fist and knocked softly. 

Too softly, it seemed, since after thirty seconds no one came to open the door. His heart was in his throat. The pounding resonating in his ears and making them ring. Another wave hit him and he knocked, again – more insistent this time. 

_Still nothing._

Slowly, Jamie turned around. Getting himself ready to leave. His feet heavy and reluctant to go anywhere. He was about to start walking when the door finally opened and a cold shiver ran up his spine, making all the hair on his body raise at once. 

“Yes?” The voice asked. _Posh, sophisticated._ Both strong and soft, like a ripe peach. One he wanted to bite into on a hot summer day on the Italian Coast. 

He looked at her, almost at a loss for words. He has rehearsed this - _\- many times –_ and now he found himself in front of her, silent and turning red. 

“Professor Beauchamp – ” He finally managed to mumble, the heat rising in his cheeks. 

He realised she was holding the telephone, the horn hooked between her head and her shoulder. 

She notified him to come in by a sharp move of her index finger and immediately went back inside, continuing her conversation with whoever was on the other end of the receiver. 

When Jamie managed to close the door, his eyes quickly scanned around her room. The walls were full of shelves. The shelves full of books and various anatomical mockups. Her desk was in the center, two big windows overlooking the gardens stood behind it. And a huge painting on the piece of wall in-between them. A Rothko, he noted and wondered if it was a real one or simply a replica. 

Mrs. Beauchamp was talking about medical terms he didn’t understand and sat by her desk, still holding the eau de nil coloured phone in her hand. Acting as if she was alone in the office. _His presence non-existent._ She was wearing high waisted beige cotton trousers that embraced her curves and waist perfectly. Her white silk shirt was unbuttoned slightly, the sleeves rolled up, just a tad just to show her delicate wrists, one of them decorated with a Cartier watch. And she didn’t wear heels today but a pair of black loafers. 

He stood awkwardly by the side, his hands holding his notebook for dear life and she noticed it. 

“Joe, I’ll call you back later.” Her eyes studied the young man from head to toe – as if she was undressing him slowly. The feeling not lost on him. 

“Just make sure Mrs. Keller responds well to the treatment and call me if anything happens but I do believe it should be fine. Her body didn’t reject the transplant by now. Right,” she nodded, smiling absently at the answer of whoever that Joe was. 

“Bye,” she finally said, hanging up the phone. 

“You’re not one of my students,” she remarked, her eyes looking directly at him. 

Jamie blinked, his eyes slowly travelling up her legs to her eyes. He found amusement floating into their whisky colour. She knew exactly what type of effect she had on men. _He had no more doubt about this._

“Did you lose your tongue, perhaps?” 

Her question threw him off even more but the slight flick of her lip had an odd relaxing effect on him. 

“I…nay I’m no’ one of yer students –”

“A scot,” she noted, adjusting her glasses quickly before crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Also I know you’re not, that wasn’t a question.” 

His cheeks turned crimson, he could tell and bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from saying another stupidity. 

“So, what can I do for you Mr…?”

“Fraser,” he answered, looking at her. “James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser, ma’am.” 

“Alright then, I’ll call you lad,” she grinned, getting up from her desk and going back to her chair. “I still don’t know what I can help you with? Are you new? Because enrollment has been over for a month, at the very least.” 

“Oh nay, I’ve been studying history here for two years –”

“Two years?” She seemed surprised, not that he thought she had acknowledged him on campus before today. “You’re a student of Professor Foster, then?” 

Jamie nodded, fidgeting in his seat, “Indeed, I am. He tasked us of writin’ an essay on a war veteran and gave us a list of potential people on campus. I thought I would ask ye if ye’d be willing to –”

“No,” she cut him off immediately. Something different in her voice. Getting up, she cleared her throat and poured herself a glass of whisky. 

“I’m touched you thought of me but the war isn’t something I talk nor think about anymore.” Something passed through her eyes. Something really brief but Jamie had caught it. 

“It’s been fifteen years and I can barely remember it. It’s all very blurry in my head, I wouldn’t be much help to you, I’m afraid.”

“Are ye sure ye wouldn’t be able to remember a wee bit of somethin’?” Jamie asked, hoping for a second chance. 

Sighing, as if this conversation alone was draining her, Claire shook her head. “As I said before lad, I’m sorry. I’m sure you can find someone else on this campus to interview, I wish you the best of luck.” 

“I do apologize for takin’ yer time, Professor.” Not knowing what else to do, Jamie excused himself and headed out of her office. There were several other names on the list, but none so intriguing as Professor Beauchamp. His one chance to learn more about the mysterious Mrs. Beauchamp and she had shot him down in less than a minute. 

Jamie would give himself the weekend to find someone else to interview. In the meantime, he would finish his other homework and spend the evening at the pub with his mates. He needed a dram. _And a strong one._

***********

The pub was crowded when they walked in and Jamie and his mates found a booth in the corner, barely managing to fit around it. In truth, he already regretted his decision of coming to the pub. It was loud and reeked of cigarettes and distilled alcohol. Charlotte clung to him for dear life and his lungs seemed to be oppressed by his ribcage. 

“You don’t have to sit so close to me, lass,” Jamie tried to say as politely as possible to Charlotte, a girl he’d been seeing for a few weeks. “Tis just a wee bit stuffy in here is all.” 

“Fine then,” Charlotte pouted. “If you don’t want to sit close to your girlfriend.” She unlatched herself from his arm and for the first time that evening, Jamie felt like he could breathe. As he shrugged off his jacket, he looked up and was shocked to see Professor Beauchamp sitting at the bar. 

She was wearing the same outfit he had seen her in earlier, but something about the dim lighting of the pub and the cigarette held lightly between her fingers was rather provocative. His eyes trailed up from her stocking-clad slim calves to her face, a smile plastered across it. Unfortunately, she wasn’t alone and was leaning too close for comfort towards another man – a language professor at Oxford. 

A weight dropped in his stomach at the sight. And he knew he wasn’t entitled to the jealousy rising up in his bloodstream but he couldn’t help it. He reluctantly took his eyes away from her and instead stared at the bottom of his glass. The whisky was the exact same shade of her eyes. He was so busy trying to avoid her that he didn’t notice her glance travelling towards him more times than she would admit to herself. 

His mates commented on how quiet he had become, but he shrugged them off – it’d been a long week. 

Charlotte turned to him abruptly, “Let’s go and dance!” 

“Huh?” He looked over at her, but she was already tugging on his arm to pull him up. He avoided looking over at Professor Beauchamp to see if she noticed him. The music was loud and there were so many people around them, he had to press himself against Charlotte in order to dance. 

He quickly realised Professor Beauchamp was watching him, all the while leaning against the other man and talking in his ear. Laughing and biting her lower lip. Jamie was aware she was too focused on him to pay honest attention to what the other man was saying and he felt like she was silently daring him to do something. 

Jamie slid his hand around Charlotte’s waist, his fingers brushing over the slight curve of her arse. Professor Beauchamp’s eyes narrowed and he moved his hand up to rest higher on Charlotte’s back, earning him a sly smile from the object of his affection. 

The man next to Professor Beauchamp finished his drink and whispered something in her ear to which she nodded, her eyes still glued to Jamie. He got up and quickly made his way towards the restroom. She crushed her cigarette into the ashtray and finished her own drink in a sharp move and got up in turn. Jamie followed her eyes move, bracing himself for her to go and follow the other man. Much to his surprise, she walked the other way and left the pub. 

“Charlotte, I’m tired,” he said a bit louder, stopping to dance. “I’m goin’ home.” 

“You’re what?” She shouted back, looking hurt, but Jamie was already halfway out the door, jacket in hand. The fresh air hit his lungs and he took a deep breath before looking to his left in search of Professor Beauchamp. 

“Hey lad,” a familiar voice came from his right. He turned to find Professor Beauchamp leaning against the brick, one foot against the wall and a fresh cigarette between her plump lips. 

“P-professor Beauchamp,” Jamie nodded his head and moved out of the way of the door as someone brushed past him. “I didna ken ye were here too.” 

“Are you sure about that?” She replied, cocking her head to the side.

“Twas dark in there,” he tried to play it off. He didn’t exactly want her to know she was all he had been paying attention to inside. 

“Indeed it was,” she blew out some smoke, watching him. 

Jamie felt that same weight settle in the pit of his stomach and he was just about to say something when Professor Beauchamp asked him a question. 

“Walking home?” 

“Aye, I’m just that way,” he pointed down the road. 

“Would you look at that,” she smiled. “So am I. Walk together?”

Heat rose in his cheeks – he was thankful it was too dark for her to notice it and he nodded, “If ye dinna mind the company.”

“I don’t,” She walked over to him and together they started to make their way towards their respective homes. 

“Do you go to that pub a lot, Jamie?” She asked. At the sound of his name on her lips, he nearly forgot how to speak. 

“Sometimes on the weekends, aye. I’ve never seen you there before,” he said and instantly regretted it. 

Professor Beauchamp acted like he had said nothing out of the ordinary. Her shoes clicked on the pavement, echoing the pounding of Jamie’s heartbeat. 

“I’m known to frequent it after a hard day of lectures or a particularly long surgery,” she smiled. “I wanted to apologise for earlier. You caught me off guard asking about the war.” 

“Och, tis alright. I understand if it’s hard for ye to talk about. My Da fought in France and died when I was barely old enough to even remember him.” 

Professor Beauchamp laid her hand on his shoulder, and they stopped walking. “I’m so sorry, Jamie. The bloody war took a lot from us… too much,” she said sadly. 

“Aye,” he agreed. “So, what I mean is that I appreciate ye takin’ the time to talk wi’ me earlier. I ken how busy ye are.” 

They started to walk again, they were almost at Jamie’s apartment and he didn’t want to reach it just yet. 

“I’ve never been asked to do any sort of interview before,” she said, blowing out more smoke. After some steps, Professor Beauchamp stopped, “That’s my cue, lad. Will the rest of the path be fine without my company?” 

Jamie smiled, wanting to shake his head but instead nodded, “Should be fine, aye, but much less pleasant. Goodnight Professor.” 

“Goodnight.” She walked towards her front door and opened it. “Oh and lad?” She turned around again to look at him. 

“Aye?” He looked at her, his heart pounding in his ears.

“I might do your interview after all,” she winked and disappeared into her home. 


	2. An Invitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this is not a crossover with "The Graduate", except for the fact that Claire is an older woman, nothing is similar to the movie so if you've seen it, you can keep reading without knowing what will happen in this story! 
> 
> Thank you so much for the response on ch.1! We’re so excited to share the rest of the story with you all that we decided to update twice a week, on Tuesday and Thursday.

_It had been three weeks since Jamie met Professor Beauchamp at the pub._

Three weeks since she had told him that _maybe_ she’d do the interview. And three weeks since he hadn’t heard from her again. Since then, he had seen her a few times in the halls but she was always busy talking to other professors and not paying attention to the scot. **  
**

Jamie had to muster the courage to go knock on her office’s door again but he couldn’t. Something about Claire Beauchamp terrified him. _Maybe it was because she was his superior and he was intimidated by her._ Or perhaps it was because he didn’t trust himself around her – he didn’t trust his thoughts not to get away from him when she was around. 

“Jamie?” Charlotte’s voice broke into his thoughts. It sounded annoyed and impatient. “Are you actually listening to me?” 

“Sorry, what?” He looked up from his book and at her. They had been studying at the library for about two hours but his thoughts were clogged by Professor Beauchamp and he didn’t pay attention to anything _– or anyone –_ else. 

“I was asking you if you were still planning on coming to my parents’ house this weekend for dinner?” Charlotte repeated, her fingers clutching her book. “You promised you would come up and that was weeks ago.” 

“Oh, I did, didn’t I?” Jamie sighed, remembering that indeed, he had. The last thing he wanted to do was spend another dreadful night with Charlotte’s parents eating whatever her mother prepared. “I suppose I can, aye.” 

“I’ll let mummy know!” Charlotte smiled, clearly missing Jamie’s hesitation to attend. 

“Will I have to dress up like last time?” He asked, his eyes caught on someone walking in.

Charlotte’s mouth was open, and sound must have been coming out, but Jamie wasn’t paying any attention to her. Professor Beauchamp had just walked into the library, a heavy looking satchel slung over her shoulder and her round golden glasses on the tip of her nose. 

Today, she was wearing a dark blue fitted cashmere sweater, hugging her curves in all the right places, with beige trousers. She was a vision, and as Jamie followed her movements, he noticed that she was staring back at him and approaching their table. 

“Professor Beauchamp,” He muttered, making Charlotte look up at the older woman who was still very much only looking at Jamie. 

“Hello, James,” Professor Beauchamp smiled, her voice raspy and warm as she pronounced his name in a formal, yet erotic manner. “I was just thinking about you, I’m glad to see you here.” 

Jamie thought his heart had surely stopped at her words and he immediately felt the heat rise to his cheeks – he hoped Charlotte didn’t notice that. He looked over at her, and she was practically scowling at him, arms crossed over her chest. 

“Oh, this is Charlotte, my…” he paused to find the right word to describe her. 

“His girlfriend,” Charlotte offered and he thought he saw Professor Beauchamp’s lip twitch, but his eyes could have deceived him. 

“Nice to meet you, Charlotte. I saw Jamie and was just coming over to discuss an assignment with him,” she smiled politely. “Do you mind giving us a minute?” 

“I’ll see ye later, Charlotte,” Jamie said quickly, hoping she would catch the hint and leave. The sooner she left, the sooner he would be alone with Professor Beauchamp. Charlotte gathered up her books without saying a word, she kissed Jamie on the lips rather languorously and left. 

Professor Beauchamp cleared her throat, slightly amused. She sat opposite Jamie, her legs crossed under the table, her ankle just brushing his. Before he could ask her about the assignment, she pulled out a small battered journal from her heavy bag. 

“I wanted to give you this,” she said quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear. 

Jamie took the journal from her perfectly manicured hands and looked at the cover. When he opened it up, it was dated 1941, scribbled in neat handwriting. 

“Is this yours? From the war?” He asked, touching the paper amazed. 

Nodding, she smiled softly, “I thought you might find it helpful for your paper? I’m sorry it stops around 43, I…I completely forgot to keep updating it with everything that was going on,” she lied. 

“Aye, dinna fash,” he turned the pages delicately, studying her handwriting. _Delicate. Airy. Neat._ “‘Tis nice enough of ye to give it to me, I’ll make sure to give it back once I’m done wi’ my paper.” 

“I thought it might be helpful to help you craft some questions you might have for me. Maybe it won’t but well –” 

“I’m sure it will,” Jamie closed the notebook and looked up at her again, realising she had been observing him _– his cheeks turning crimson all over again._ His brain slowed down and he couldn’t find anything to tell her. He was about to mutter something when she talked. 

“I’ve been rather busy with work in London these past few weeks, I hope you didn’t think I had forgotten about you?” 

“Oh nay,” he lied in turn, smiling. Of course, he had thought she had forgotten. _That was all he had thought about._

“Dinna fash, I ken ye must have a busy schedule, Professor.” 

“I do, but I want to help you with your assignment. Which is why I would like to invite you over to my house for dinner? For the interview, of course. I’m afraid I’m only available on Saturday evening.” 

Saturday evening was when he promised Charlotte he would go to her parents for dinner. But his assignment was due in a month, he didn’t have any more time to waste. Hopefully, Charlotte would understand that school came first. 

“I’m completely available,” Jamie agreed with a smile. “Is there anything I can bring? Wine?”

“Just bring yourself,” Professor Beauchamp smiled. “I don’t usually cook, so I’m not promising it will taste any good.” She laughed and he wanted to bottle the sound. 

“Nah, I’m sure it’ll taste incredible. The interview shouldna take too long, I wouldna want to keep ye from any big plans ye have that evenin’,” he said, hoping their dinner wouldn’t be over _too_ quickly. 

“Don’t think my evenings are wild, lad. I’m rather a homebody, in my bathrobe and my nose in a book,” she smiled, getting up. “See you Saturday, then. 7pm sharp?” 

Jamie got up in turn, nodding, “Aye, I’ll be there.”

Professor Beauchamp smiled, opening her metallic cigarette case to take one out. She put the cigarette in her mouth and igniting a match to light it. 

“See you, lad,” she winked and blew out the smoke before turning around and leaving the library. 

He stood there, his glance glued to her while she walked away from him. Goosebumps erupted on his skin as his eyes stopped on her bum. So plump and perfectly hugged by the material of her trousers. 

“God help me,” he mumbled to himself and slowly gathered his things from the table. He had to find a cure to his attraction for Mrs. Beauchamp before Saturday because there was no way a woman like her would ever be interested in a lad like him. Not when she could have all the men she wanted. 

***********

Claire had been in surgery for most of the day, up on her feet and mind erased of anything unrelated to the task she had been doing. She usually didn’t feel tired when she was in the operatory block but as soon as she stepped into the train back from London to Oxford, her legs turned into jelly and her eyelids grew heavy. She couldn’t stop thinking about her conversations with the Scottish lad back at University. She truthfully didn’t know why she had agreed to an interview. About the war, no less. A subject she avoided more often than not. 

“What are you thinking about, Lady Jane?” Joe asked, sitting in front of her in the compartment. 

Claire opened one eye, her head resting against the leather seat, “About a glass of whisky and my bed waiting for me at home.”

“You deserve more than one glass after a full morning of classes and eight hours of surgery,” His smirk grew. 

“Well no class nor hospital tomorrow nor on Sunday, I intend on taking full advantage of this situation and doing absolutely nothing.” 

“Would you join Gail and me for dinner tomorrow evening, though?” He asked and her stomach settled, remembering the invitation she offered to Jamie. 

In truth, she didn’t know why she invited him over to her house. Never in her life had she done so with a student _– even less one that wasn’t directly hers_. But something about the Scot intrigued her and the interest he had towards her story wasn’t lost on her. They were things about the war she would never talk about to anyone. Things she never wanted to speak out loud. But she could talk to him about her time as a combat nurse and it surely would be enough for his paper. 

“Next weekend, perhaps? I’m afraid I’m being interviewed tomorrow evening –”

“Interviewed?” Joe’s eyebrows rose in question. 

“One of the history students is doing a paper on the war and he wants to ask me a couple of questions about my time working as a nurse in France –” 

“He?” His grin grew while he crossed his arms. 

“Yes, he.” She pretended not to grasp his teasing tone and instead turned her gaze towards the window. It was dark outside but the lights of the city were slowly fading away. 

“Since when do you mingle with your students, Lady Jane?”

“Firstly, he’s not one of my students,” she grinned, looking at him. 

“And secondly, their professor actually recommended a few of us who served in the war. He asked and I agreed to help him. It’s not gonna cost me more than an hour or two.” 

“I’m surprised you want to talk about the war at all…”

Claire looked down at her hands, a cold shiver running down her spine, “I wouldn’t say I _want_ to talk about the war and I surely won’t talk about everything but…some things I can talk about.” 

“Are you sure?” Joe touched her hand gently, looking at her. 

Joe was an American doctor whom she met during the war. He had known everything that happened to her. He had been the only one to. 

“I am,” she smiled softly, touching his hand in reassurance and ignoring the lump forming in her throat. 

“It’s been fifteen years, I can talk about my time at the field hospital, Joe. Just not the rest…not what happened afterwards.” 

Nodding, Joe gave her a reassuring smile and squeezed her hand. Silence fell between the two longtime friends and the subject was quickly closed like it always usually was. 

“Well, you’ll have to tell me how this interview with the young fellow goes. I want to hear all the juicy details when you come over next week for dinner, and you can’t get out of it now,” Joe smiled. 

“I promise,” Claire laughed. 

“Maybe someone’s got a crush on you…’

Claire scoffed and reached for a cigarette from her purse. “He does not! He’s interested in history and what part I played in it, apparently.” 

Joe leaned back, closing his eyes. “If you say so, LJ. After all, you did play a part. One people deserve to know about.” 

“We all played a part, Joe.” Claire ignored his remark and closed her eyes in turn, her thumb absently stroking her thin gold wedding band. She wondered what Elliot would think about all of this. 

***********

Come Saturday, Jamie was a ball of nerves. He had not been able to concentrate on anything during the last few days other than the idea of having dinner at Mrs Beauchamp’s home. He managed to work on some questions for his paper but that was about it. 

He felt a bit foolish as he looked in the mirror. This was the third outfit he had tried on, he wanted to look perfect. But, he didn’t know why he wanted to look perfect, only that he wasn’t quite happy with how he looked. Staring at himself in the mirror, he suddenly felt so young and inexperienced. 

_A lad_ , as she called him. 

Deciding on the second option, he changed back into a cream coloured button-down shirt and rolled up the sleeves to keep it casual. Looping his belt through his trousers, Jamie sat down on the edge of his bed to tie up his proper shoes. 

When he had told Charlotte that he couldn’t attend dinner at her parents’ house, she’d been furious. He felt bad only because he had agreed to go and then backed out last minute, but he would much rather be getting ready to see Professor Beauchamp than Charlotte’s parents. 

He liked Charlotte. _He didn’t love her._ And what started as an innocent courtship was turning into something he wasn’t prepared for. Something he didn’t want. _At least, not with her._ Yet, here she was, dropping hints about potential weddings when all he cared about was to graduate and find a job in London. 

Jamie got up and grabbed his satchel along with the little bouquet he had purchased earlier for Mrs. Beauchamp. He thought about bringing wine but he had no knowledge whatsoever and didn’t want to look like a total idiot in front of her. He wondered if flowers would be too cheesy but he decided that it was rude to show up at someone’s house empty-handed. 

With a last long look into his mirror, he took a few deep and long breaths and left his apartment. 

Afraid of being late, the scot was now standing in front of her house twenty minutes early. He walked up and down the street again a couple of times to kill time and even sat by the bench near the park to wait. At some point, he decided to simply go and announce himself. It was better to be early than late, after all. 

She was in the second-story window. Brushing the ends of her curly hair. The light was dim, but he knew it was her. Mrs. Beauchamp seemed to be saying something to herself in the mirror, her mouth moving as she yanked on the brush. Jamie could have stayed there for hours simply observing her. _The way she moved so gracefully._ He stayed a moment longer to watch her spray perfume on her neck, and then she left his view.   
  
_That’s when Jamie decided it was time to make his presence known._

Pushing the little gate, the redhead stepped towards the porch at number 46th Chapel Street, his stomach in knots and his palms sweaty. It took him another minute but finally, he rang the doorbell. It was only when he did so that panic took over him, the thought finally occurring: what if a Mr. Beauchamp would be the one opening the door? 


	3. Tête à Tête

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Enjoy :)

The house on 46th Chapel Street was warm and inviting. Jamie would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t pictured the inside of Mrs Beauchamp’s house from the moment he had been invited over _\-- and even before that._ He was about to find out it looked exactly the way he had imagined. 

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Mrs Beauchamp stood in the doorway, smiling, one long arm placed against the entrance. Attached to her long arm, was her hand and in that hand between her fingers was a thin cigarette almost fully consumed. 

Jamie was unable to move from his spot on the porch, his hands shaking slightly. He blinked absently, his grasp on the bouquet tightening. 

“Come in,” she waved her hand at him, breaking him from her spell she had over him. “Let’s get you out of that cold air.” 

“Thank you again,” Jamie mumbled as he took a step inside and closed the door behind him. “For agreeing to this interview and inviting me to dinner and all.” 

“You might not be thanking me after you taste what I’ve prepared.” She laughed, the sound echoing into the hall, and placed her hand on the small of his back to guide him inside. 

The long and narrow hall ended up towards the spacious living room. With shelves full of books and a marble fireplace taking center stage in the room. One brown Chesterfield hid a wooden coffee table where an ashtray and some vases resided, along with a few medical books and notebooks. Jamie was too busy studying each detail of the place, as if he would find hidden details about Mrs Beauchamp stamped onto the walls, that he didn’t notice her watching him. 

“Give me your coat, lad,” she interrupted his observations and he blushed, nodding.

Quickly, Jamie removed his tweed blazer and handed it to her. “Oh and those are for ye,” he held out the bouquet of flowers to her, trying to control his shaky hands. 

“How lovely, thank you! Forget-me-nots are my favourites,” she smiled warmly, taking both the jacket and the flowers from him. 

“Make yourself at home, I’ll go and put these in a vase.” She winked, disappearing out of the living room. 

As he sat down on the Chesterfield, Jamie was trying to think of ways to prolong the evening. _Perhaps he could have misplaced his notes with the questions to ask on it, and just find them as they finish their third drink._ He would do anything to stay here, anything to share more time with her. _To get to know her._

Professor Beauchamp reappeared a few moments later, holding the vase in one hand and a bottle of wine in another, “I hope you like _rosé_?” 

Jamie watched her, feeling the heat rose in his cheeks, “I uh...I’ve never tried it before.” 

“Oh,” she smiled, putting the vase on the table. “Would you like something else, then? Sparkling water? Or some Coca Cola, perhaps?” 

“I’ll try the wine, thank ye.” He stood straighter, trying to appear more like a proper man and not some inexperienced twenty-year-old. 

Clearing his throat to deepen his voice, he asked boldly: “Would ye like me to open the bottle for ye?” 

“Suit yourself, lad.” The professor sat down and handed him the opener. She leaned back and attentively watched him at the task, which didn’t do much to help with his nervousness. He didn’t even think she was doing it on purpose but everything Mrs Beauchamp did have some sort of erotism attached to it. 

He struggled at first, never having done it before. Pressing his lips together, he was determined not to make a fool of himself. As he twisted the opener, he pulled the cork top, feeling it give and finally that audible ‘pop’ echoed around the room. The two glasses were in front of him on the table and as he started to fill one glass to the top, Mrs Beauchamp placed her hand on his arm. 

“Only halfway,” she instructed with a small amused smirk on her lips, biting her thumb softly. 

“Oh,” he blushed and then switched to fill the other glass halfway as she instructed. 

“Cheers,” she clinked her glass to his and took a sip. 

Jamie hesitantly placed his nose to the glass and took a sniff, it was pleasant enough. The only alcohol he had was either a whiskey or beer, nothing as sophisticated as wine. With Mrs Beauchamp’s glistening eyes watching him, the scot took his first sip. The fruity taste mixed with some tang overwhelmed him _\-- he was pretty sure that was what her lips tasted like._

“Do you like it?” She asked, attentively observing his lips. 

“Aye,” Jamie smiled and took another sip. “I like the taste. Verra fresh, aye I like it fine.” 

“The good thing with wine is that you can pretend you know quite a bit on the subject just by twirling your glass and pretending to taste it for a while,” she grinned, taking a sip in turn. Her legs were crossed, and her foot dangled next to his leg while she crushed her cigarette into the ashtray. 

“I normally drink whiskey,” Jamie admitted and relaxed back against the sofa. “The hard stuff, ye ken?”

Mrs Beauchamp laughed, her curls bouncing around her shoulders. “I fancy a dram every now and then. Perhaps after dinner. Speaking of…” a timer went off from somewhere down the hall. 

“Do ye need any help wi’ it?” Jamie started to get up, placing his glass back on the coffee table. 

“Don’t trouble yourself,” She smiled, getting up and placing her glass on the table. “It’s just the chicken. Go into the dining room and take a seat, I’ll bring it out in a minute.” 

He watched her disappear back down the hall, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Jamie rose from the sofa, with both of their glasses in hand. As he walked past the fireplace, something on the ledge caught his eye. 

_It was a picture, in an ornate gold frame._

There she was, probably twenty years younger _\-- not that she had much changed --_ a big smile on her face standing next to a man. It was obvious that this was a picture of their wedding day, from the way she was dressed. It was odd to think of Mrs Beauchamp as married and with a husband. As long as she’d ever been in his daydreams, he had pictured her single _\-- and available._

His stomach dropped at the sudden thought and an odd feeling crept up inside him, something akin to jealousy. He couldn’t help but think of the man in the picture with her. _Making her laugh. Making her happy._ Doing all the things to her that Jamie imagined doing. Of course, he should have known _\-- she did wear a thin gold band on her left hand, after all._ He wondered where Mr Beauchamp was tonight...

Jamie took one last long look at the portrait before walking a few steps into the dining room where the table had only been set for two people. He had carried their wine glasses over to it and placed them beside the plates. He sat down, taking another sip of wine, waiting for _her_. 

The swinging door into the dining room opened, and Mrs Beauchamp appeared holding a large silver platter with a roasted chicken surrounded by a variety of vegetables. She came over and set it down in front of him and the smell made his stomach growl. 

“It looks delicious,” Jamie’s mouth actually watered. “I ken ye said yer no much of a cook, but ye’ve done a damn good job of it by my standards.” 

“That’s pretty much the only dish I can cook properly,” she chuckled softly. 

“I canna cook anythin’ so,” he grinned, watching her. 

She smiled, serving the food, “Have a nice meal, lad.”

“Thank ye,” he said softly, gathering the courage to ask something he knew he shouldn’t have. “Will Mr Beauchamp be joining us?” 

The Englishwoman blinked, taken aback by his sudden question. He noticed the way her expression change and he was already cursing himself to have asked anything at all, in the first place. 

“Mr Beauchamp died nineteen years ago,” she answered in a low voice, sitting down after filling her own plate. “And his name was actually Mr Fowles. Beauchamp is my maiden name, I took it back up when I started working.”

Jamie was mortified, hoping the floor would open up and swallow him whole so he’d disappear. “I’m sorry... I thought --” He let his sentence die as his eyes landed on the gold band she always wore. 

“It’s alright, you didn’t know.” She cleared her throat to prevent her voice from breaking. 

“Elliot, that was his name, was killed in the Blitz. We had been married for a little bit more than a year by then. I guess that’s something for your paper,” she smiled softly, taking a sip of wine. A flicker of vulnerability passed through her whisky-coloured eyes. One Jamie had never seen before. 

“I won’t write about him if ye dinna want me to,” Jamie said as his fork paused in mid-air. “Besides… it’s ye I’m interested in.” 

Mrs Beauchamp visibly blushed and looked down at her plate to hide it. “Well, you’ll have to mention him. He was part of the reason I joined the army. He encouraged me to and I was so young and in love, I would have done anything he said.” 

“He must have been a great man for ye to chose him for a husband,” Jamie smiled softly, his voice almost a whisper as he carefully watched her. 

“He was terrific,” she admitted fondly. “I do miss him.” 

She took another bite and looked up at him. “Are you planning on getting married soon, Jamie?”

He nearly choked on a bite of chicken and had to drain his glass of wine to clear his throat. “No, of course not! I’m only twenty.” 

“I was married at nineteen,” Mrs Beauchamp remarked, her eyebrow flicking up. “Would you have married me? If I was your age?” 

Jamie blinked at her question, afraid he had misheard her. He wanted to shout that, yes, indeed, he would have married her. But he was frozen on the spot, his mind fuzzy from the wine and intoxicated by the professor. 

“I’m just messing with you, lad,” Mrs Beauchamp placed her hand on his and squeezed it as she smiled mischievously. 

“Of course you would have married me. You’re foolish at twenty.” she joked and winked. 

“If ye say so.” Jamie breathed out and then took the last few bites of his meal to shut himself up before he added something ridiculous. 

“I know, I’ve been one,” she smiled, finishing her meal in turn. 

“How do you want to proceed for your interview? Just ask me questions and I answer them or you’d rather have me tell you about my time in the war and take notes?”

“Just tell me everythin’ about ye durin’ the war, Professor.” 

“You can call me Claire, you know.” Her voice was smooth like velvet as she finally said her name. 

“Claire,” he repeated, the name carefully rolling off his tongue like a precious thing. It seemed it had been made specifically for him to say. 

He nodded, “Aye.” 

“I’ll clean up and then we can start,” Claire got up and started to gather the dirty dishes to bring into the kitchen. 

“Let me help ye,” Jamie got up as well and helped her. Their hands brushing a few times. The feeling of her skin against his sending a bolt of electricity through his bloodstream. 

“Thank you, lad.” Smiling, she made her way towards the kitchen with the scot closely following behind her. 

Jamie tried to control himself, he really did. But her body was like a magnet for his eyes and he couldn’t help but stare at her ass, perfectly hugged by the pencil shirt she was wearing. All throughout dinner, he had let his eyes gaze down at her long neck and the opening of her silk blouse that gave the slightest hint of what kind of undergarment she was wearing. She was a real woman, not a girl who didn’t know what she wanted. 

“Just set them in the sink, I’ll get to them later,” Claire instructed and placed the leftover chicken back into the fridge. 

Jamie set the plates down in the sink and as he turned around, he found himself face to face with Claire, his body pressed against hers. “Sorry,” he muttered and took a step to the side. 

“We’ll do the interview back on the sofa.” Ignoring him, she turned back towards the door before he could read her expression. He had been so close to kissing her, and his lips twitched from being neglected of the chance. 

His brown leather satchel was sitting near the door and he retrieved it, pulling out his notebook. 

Claire poured them both a glass of whisky and went back to the sofa to sit down and wait for him. She put one of the glasses on the table and kept the other, leaning back. 

“So, Mrs Beauchamp,” Jamie cleared his throat and held his pencil nervously between his fingers. “How long were ye in the war?”

“Five years, lad.” She looked at him almost amused at his first question. “We all were, even people who didn’t serve.” 

“Right,” he coughed and scribbled down her answer. “I’ve never had to do an interview before.” 

“It’s going to be fine, don’t worry,” Claire smiled to put him at ease and took another sip of her drink.

“It was the longest five years of my life -- and the hardest,” she finally said, with a far off look. 

“Ye were a nurse? Is that right?” Jamie asked though he knew the answer to this question. 

“I was. I trained in London for a month and then was sent to France. I did just about everything one can think of. Amputations, suturing small wounds, bandaging cuts and even simply giving the men a dram of alcohol to lessen the pain. I think I learned more about medical procedures during the war than I did in medical school.” 

“Did ye always want to attend medical school and become a doctor? Or was it because of the war that changed ye?” 

“I decided that if I’d make it out alive, I’d become a doctor. Or do anything I could to become one. Women were not allowed to study medicine before I enrolled.” 

“So, ye were the first woman to attend medical school?” Jamie asked, astonished and a little intimidated. 

“Indeed. In Boston, Massachusetts, and my classmates were not pleased,” Claire laughed, as if she was remembering her time there. 

“I must say,” Jamie started, “yer very well travelled. London, then to France and medical school in America. Now yer in Oxford as a professor.” 

“You do make me sound rather impressive,” Claire chuckled, resting her head against her palm. “I travelled a lot with my Uncle Lamb when I was younger. He was an archaeologist and I spent years of my life digging my hands in the grounds of the middle east. I learned to read because my uncle gave me a book without any explanation until I figured it out.” 

“That’s amazing,” Jamie chuckled and wrote down every word she said. His fascination with her growing by the minute. 

“Ye’ve been in Oxford for a while, do ye ever get restless?”

“Sometimes,” Claire admitted, crossing her leg over the other one. “But I like having a home. Somewhere I can put flowers in a vase and books on a shelf. A place where all my clothes are out of a suitcase and my bed is my own.” 

“It must have been extremely difficult in the war… all that moving around and never knowing whether it was your last day on earth. Always living in fear,” Jamie said softly then looked up to see Claire wiping a tear from her eye. 

“I’m sae sorry!” He moved across the couch, his hand instinctively resting on her knee. “I didna mean to bring up any memories ye dinna wish to relive.” 

“It’s alright,” she sniffed, smiling softly. “I truly have not thought about that time of my life for many years. I knew I would have to, eventually. Don’t worry.” 

“But I’m afraid my time during the war isn’t very exciting, apart from my time at the makeshift hospital, I didn’t do many things.” She had a glass face and Jamie realised she wasn’t exactly telling him the truth about what happened during those years but he didn’t know how to make her. _And he didn’t want to push her._

“I’m sure ye did many great things. Ye saved lives for a start,” he smiled, his hand tingling to touch her. He could feel the wine and the whisky go to his head but he didn’t care. It was lovely to be intoxicated by her. 

“No matter how many, it’s never enough,” she shrugged, taking another sip of whisky. “Actually, the lives you didn’t save are always the ones keeping you up at night. It doesn’t matter if you were able to save a thousand men or more, you’ll always think about the one or two you couldn’t do anything about. It’s the same for my job as a doctor.” 

“Do you have other specifics you’d like to know about my time during the war? Because I don’t see what else I could tell you that would be very interesting.” She added, finishing her drink. 

“I’m sure I’ll think of something, but for now I have plenty to start my paper,” Jamie said and took one last look at his notebook. 

“You’re very good at asking questions, Jamie,” Claire smiled and set her empty glass down on the coffee table. They were still sitting close to each other, as Jamie hadn’t bothered moving back after he saw her crying. Their knees bumped as Jamie shoved his notebook back in his satchel. 

“My Mam always said I was a curious child,” he smirked. “Always askin’ too many questions.” 

Claire’s eyes squinted and she leaned forward, the whisky on her breath enough to leave him drunk. “I bet you were a mischievous child.” 

“Oh, ye do?” Jamie grinned and leaned back against the sofa, one arm sliding behind her. “I did tend to get into stramashes and always had bruises on my arms and legs.” 

“Stramash?” Claire asked, amused. 

“A wee fight,” Jamie specified. “With the other boys in the town. But I grew out of it, havena been in a fight in years.” 

“How did you get that scar?” She asked, softly touching the little scar on the top of his left cheek. 

“Och, that one. I always forget about it,” Jamie shrugged and touched it himself, his finger brushing against hers. “I was cutting wood for the fire and a small chunk flew up and hit me.” 

“Cutting wood, eh?” she grinned, biting her lip between her teeth. “I just buy all my logs from the store.” 

“If ye like, I can cut some down for ye and bring it by sometime,” Jamie said. “I can do anything ye need me to do.” 

_“Anything?”_ Claire asked softly and Jamie felt her breath on his lips. 

_This couldn’t be happening_. Surely it was a dream. Mrs Beauchamp was looking at him, her face just inches away from his. His hand was still on her knee, rubbing small circles over her stockings. 

“Anythin’,” he answered and then his lips were pressed against hers, wet and warm. He couldn’t be sure whether it was his moans or hers as he slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. 

Claire’s lips tasted sweet from the wine and yet warm from the whisky. His heart was beating so loud, he couldn't hear himself think. Just as he felt the tip of her tongue on his lips, she pulled away slowly. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered, her chest heaving. “We cannot be doing this. I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me...” 

Jamie blinked several times and then realized that he had just kissed her and he was just about to do something else to her before she stopped him. 

“You’re right, Christ.” He quickly stood up, the blood rushing to his head. “I’ll go, I’m so sorry.” 

He bent down and gathered his satchel, throwing it over his shoulder without looking at her. “I...I had a lovely evening, Mrs Beauchamp. The food was lovely and the interview was great, really.” 

Jamie hurried towards the hall but as he reached the door, he heard Claire following behind him and he turned to get one last look at her. _He didn’t want to leave but he knew he couldn’t stay._

“Jamie…” she smiled, leaning against the bannister. “I told you to call me, Claire.”

_Sorcha._


	4. Boundaries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the response to this story! We hope you enjoy this new chapter <3

Jamie had dreamed of Mrs Beauchamp many times. It was always the same dream -- her laughing at something he said, her hand resting lightly on his knee and then he would lean in to kiss her, but before he could touch her lips, he would wake up. 

_This dream was different._ Part of the reason it was so different was that Saturday evening, he had actually kissed her. Or she had kissed him… it was all very confusing for him. _Nonetheless, it really happened._

As Jamie slept, his mind wandered, conjuring Mrs Beauchamp _\-- Claire --_ before him again _._ She was sitting there on the sofa, her thin cigarette between her fingers. Jamie leaned in, taking it away from her and putting it in the ashtray. He then placed both his hands on either side of her face and kissed her. The feel of her lips was unlike anything he had ever experienced. _So soft. So tender._ She didn’t move for a moment, but then her fingers were at the buttons of his white shirt. 

He’d never gotten this far in his dream before, and he willed himself to never wake up. Claire pulled his shirt off his shoulders and as he threw it to the ground, he climbed on top of her, pushing her back to lay down on the leather sofa. One of her legs came to wrap around his waist, pulling them close together. 

“You seem like you’ve done this before,” Claire's voice a far away whisper, and flexed her hips. Jamie was too focused on her hands on the zipper of his pants to respond to what she had just said. Just as her hand was about to touch him, there was an annoying buzzing going off in his right ear. 

_His eyes shot open, and he was alone, his hand resting over his cock._

“Fuck,” he muttered and laid his head back down on the pillow. It’d been all a dream, a sexy, hot dream he hoped one day would come true. _But just a dream._

Jamie laid in the dark for a long time, waiting for hours to pass and for morning to rise. He tried to fall asleep again _\-- to grasp the image of her --_ but he couldn’t. Lips still tingling from their kiss, he absently touched his bottom one, closing his eyes to try and feel the softness of her plump mouth. 

When his alarm finally went off, he shot out of bed in a second and went to the bathroom to take a shower. _A cold one_. He couldn’t keep thinking about Professor Beauchamp all day long, he had other things supposed to be on his mind. Like classes and Charlotte. 

_Charlotte -- he had almost forgotten about her._

Spending too much time under the running water, he had to hurry to get dressed and leave for his morning classes. He tried not to scan the campus to find Claire but his desire to see her was stronger than himself. _Like some primal craving._ Not that he expected her to walk around the history department -- she never did -- but he hoped to bump into her by chance and to talk. 

_Talk about what? He wondered._

Jamie barely listened to what his teachers had to say. He barely stayed awake, too. His eyelids too heavy with fatigue and his mind full of thoughts about Mrs Beauchamp. _Maybe she was working in London today? Or maybe she didn’t come and instead, was avoiding him?_ He couldn’t believe how badly he overstepped the boundaries they had silently established. He’d be lucky if she still wanted to continue the interview, at this point. 

Finally, 4pm came and the bell rang to free him from any academic obligations. Gathering his things, he hurried out of class and briefly wondered if he should go and see if _she_ was in her office. He found himself walking towards the medical department but at the last second, he stopped and turned around. He had no idea what he would say to her, anyway. No idea on how to go around the situation without looking like a damn fool. 

“There you are!” Charlotte’s voice echoed through the hall behind him and he had to repress an exasperated sigh. Today was testing him. 

Slowly, Jamie turned around and before he could do or say anything, she had clasped herself on him, her arms around his neck almost suffocating him, “Charlotte --” 

She cut him off, kissed him. A clumsy and wet kiss _\-- the actual opposite of what Claire had given him a few days ago._

“I’ve been trying to call your place all weekend, but you apparently weren’t home,” she wiped her thumb across his cheek. “I forgive you for not coming to my parents’ dinner on Saturday, but you can make it up to me by taking me out tonight!” 

“Tonight?” Jamie asked. He had been hoping to run into Claire and arrange their second interview. 

“It’s the least you can do,” Charlotte pouted like the child she was. “Mum and Daddy were sad they missed you. I promised you’d come round next weekend.” 

“Um, sure, Charlotte,” Jamie agreed to get her to stop talking. “We can go to that restaurant ye like tonight. I’d like to talk to ye about something.” 

“What about?” She asked, her eyes starting to shine at his sudden remark. 

“I’d rather it wait ‘til tonight, Charlotte,” Jamie grumbled. He didn’t exactly want to have this conversation out in the open on campus. 

“Just tell me what it’s about, please?” She begged and her voice was so annoying, Jamie would have said anything to get her to be quiet. He didn’t know why he’d let this go on for as long as it had. 

“I really need to focus on school right now, and so I just dinna think I’ll have enough time to put into this relationship,” he said quickly. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Charlotte only blinked, as if she didn’t understand what he’d just dropped. 

“I can’t do this,” he waved his hand back and forth between the two of them, “anymore. I’m really sorry, Charlotte. Ye’re a great lass, but the timing just isn’t right.” 

“You’re breaking up with me?” Charlotte’s mouth opened and Jamie had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. They didn’t even date properly. It had only been a brief courtship. 

“I’m sorry, truly. We’re too young to jump into anythin’ serious, ye ken that as much as I do.” 

“My parents were married young,” Charlotte responded, her arms crossed. “I have plenty of friends that are engaged right now. That’s just a dumb excuse, Jamie Fraser!” 

“Did ye come to university for a degree or for a husband, Charlotte? Because I didna come here to find a wife. We dinna seem to have the same priorities and it only proves we both want different things right now.”

Charlotte scoffed, and the next thing Jamie knew, his face was stinging from the slap of her hand across his cheek. “Get stuffed,” she said before storming off in the opposite direction. 

Jamie covered his cheek, his eyes watering. He had never had to break up with anyone before, and it wasn’t exactly something he found he particularly enjoyed. _But it had to be done._ If Claire’s kiss was anything to go by, he didn’t want to be attached to Charlotte in any way when it came time for his next interview. Not that he was expecting anything… well, perhaps a little. But he also knew how he felt after the kiss with Mrs Beauchamp and it had never felt that way after kissing Charlotte. It was better to end things before he’d be stuck in something he didn’t want. 

He made his way home, still very aware of his surroundings in case he’d see Claire around. After all, she didn’t live very far from his own tiny apartment. He sighed, exhausted with himself and his attraction to the professor. It was foolish to think she was interested in him. _He was too young._ Too inexperienced and uncultured to be with her. She could have her pick, why would she decide he was worth her time? 

He had to stop before his infatuation turned into love -- though he wasn’t quite sure it wasn’t already the case. 

Jamie spent the next few hours going through his notes of the interview. He read those sentences over and over again, his fascination with Claire growing by the second. She seemed to have had the most peculiar and interesting life. _And he didn’t even know half the details of it._

He briefly wondered if this essay couldn’t turn into something else. Something more. _Like a book of some kind._ That was how much Claire inspired him. He’d never been so grateful for a school assignment in all his life. If this was how he got to learn about the mysterious Mrs Beauchamp, he would treasure this time always. 

Sometime around eight, Jamie decided he needed a strong drink and he had no liquor in the house. Since the pub was three minutes away from his apartment, he grabbed his coat and ventured out. To go to said pub, he had to walk by Claire’s house and the closer he approached, the faster his heart started to beat. 

He briefly shot a look at the place, which seemed empty -- all the lights turned off. His footsteps increased so he wouldn’t be caught staring at the house, in case she was watching him from behind the window. Only when his nervousness started to dissipate and the house was receding further away that he heard it. 

_Her laugh._

Mrs Beauchamp was in front of him on the street, but she wasn’t alone. She was walking arm in arm with another professor he recognized. Claire was laughing awfully hard at something the man had said and it caused Jamie’s fists to clench _\-- he was jealous._ As Jamie came closer to them, Mrs Beauchamp finally noticed him and stopped walking. 

“Jamie, is that you?” She squinted. “I don’t have my glasses on and I’m afraid my sight isn’t the best in the dark,” she chuckled. 

“Hello, Professor Beauchamp. Professor Jacobs.” Jamie smiled politely, unsure of what to do. He desperately wanted to speak with her, but he couldn’t do that with Professor Jacobs attached to her hip. 

“Can you manage to make it to your house, Claire dear?” Professor Jacobs said and released his grasp on her to Jamie’s delight. 

“Oh yes!” She smiled, her dazzling white teeth shining in the lamplight. “I can, thank you for escorting me home, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Goodnight, Claire,” the other man placed a kiss on her cheek and winked before walking away from them both without giving another look at Jamie. 

“Did you come to my house?” Claire asked, looking at Jamie again. He was glad she could barely see him in this lightning. 

“Nay, I was goin’ to the pub,” he shoved his hands into his pockets, not knowing what to do nor what to say. 

“Well, then I won’t take up much more of your time. Have a nice evening, lad,” she smiled and touched his arm in a friendly gesture. Before he had the time to do anything else, she was already walking away from him and towards her home. 

“Mrs Beauchamp, wait!” He turned around, cursing himself for his sudden boldness. 

“No, I won’t come and have a drink with you at the pub,” she grinned, answering before he even had the chance to ask. 

“Oh...aye, of course --”

“But if you’d like to join me for a dram and some dessert at home? I made raw banoffee pie this afternoon.” 

“That’s one of my favourites!” Jamie said a bit too eagerly. “I’d love to join ye, thank ye, Mrs Beauchamp.” 

“Come on, lad. And for the last time, call me Claire.” She offered her his arm and he took it, walking with her the rest of the way to her house. In just a matter of a few days, he had now been to her house twice. As they walked in, it was just as it had been before, only this time Jamie felt more at ease. 

“I do love yer house,” he admitted as he followed her to the living room. “It reminds me of my own home.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled and walked over to the bar cart. “And where exactly is home? I figured Scotland…”

“Tis a place called Lallybroch in Broch Mordha. Close to Inverness,” he smiled at the mention and leaned against the sofa. “Tis a small village, everyone kens who ye are and what yer about, but it’s home.” 

“I’ve only been to Glasgow once,” she handed him a drink and sat down on the sofa with her own. “It was really beautiful but I’d love to explore the Highlands sometime.” 

“Ye should! It’s sae beautiful wi’ the heather and the rolling hills. Best way to see it is by horseback,” he grinned. “Whenever I’m home, I always take my horse, Donas, out for a ride.” 

“You make it sound so idyllic,” she sipped her drink, smiling absently. “Maybe when I get up there, and you’re there too, you can show me around?”

“Of course!” Jamie smiled. He would love nothing more than to show Mrs Beauchamp around his hometown. He could picture it now, them on one horse, her holding onto his waist as they rode together. 

“Do you have any siblings, Jamie?” Claire asked as she crossed her legs. 

“Aye, two of them. An older brother named William, Willie. And an older sister, Janet, but we call her Jenny she lives in Aberdeen wi’ her husband Ian and their bairns.” 

“So you’re the baby of the family?” Claire asked, leaning back. 

“Aye, but I dinna look it,” he puffed his chest out a little. “I’m taller than both my brother. My Mam always said I looked older than I really was.” 

“I always wanted a sibling,” Claire admitted sadly. “To always have someone there.” 

“Siblings are fine most of the time, but when we were little, we always got into fights,” Jamie smirked. 

“Stramashes you mean?” Claire said, remembering the word from their last meeting. 

“Yes,” he laughed. “Ye remembered!”

“Of course,” she grinned and placed her hand on his knee. “Let me get you some pie!” 

Claire got up and disappeared into the hall on her way to the kitchen. While she was away, Jamie leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t know if it was his wool sweater, the whisky, or if it was actually really hot in this house. 

“Jamie?” Her voice called from the kitchen. “Do you want some vanilla ice cream with that?” 

“Oh, aye,” he cleared his throat."Thank ye.” 

A few moments later, Claire returned carrying two small plates with pie and ice cream and Jamie graciously accepted the plate she offered him. “It looks delicious! Ye keep sayin’ ye dinna ken how to cook, but ye’ve proven that wrong twice now.” 

“Oh stop,” Mrs Beauchamp blushed. “It’s just a pie, nothing fancy. Literally, the easiest thing to make.” 

Laughing, Jamie picked up his spoon and dived into the pie, getting a big spoonful. It really did taste delicious. _So sweet._ They sat and ate quietly, the only sound the clinging of the silverware on the plates. When Jamie looked up, Mrs Beauchamp had a bit of ice cream on the side of her lip and didn’t seem to notice it. 

“Ye’ve got somethin’ just there,” Jamie motioned to his own lip. 

Claire quickly wiped her mouth but didn’t get it all off, so the scot moved closer and swiped his thumb over her lip. “Got it.” 

Their eyes locked. Earth against the sea. And time slowed down just for a moment. _A very long moment._ One Jamie never wanted to be out of. They still hadn’t talked about _the kiss_ and he didn’t think it was necessary to bring it up right now. 

He kept his thumb there, pressing against her lip, and before he could pull it away, Mrs Beauchamp’s tongue licked it. She started to suck on the very tip of his thumb, and just as Jamie let out a soft moan, the phone rang, making them both jump. 

Clearing her throat, Claire got up at once. “I have to get that, I’m sorry.”   
  
Jamie could swear she was blushing but she had been too quick for him to be sure of such a thing. 

“Aye, of course,” the scot watched her attentively, feeling the heat in his cheeks. The room around him starting to spin slightly. 

“Doctor Beauchamp?” She picked up, putting the phone horn against her ear after she had removed her clip-on earring. Nodding a few times, she didn’t even have to say another word before hanging up again. 

“I have to go to the hospital for an emergency transplant,” Claire put the phone away and her earing back on. Before he had time to answer, she was already on her way to grab her coat and bag. 

Jamie got up at once, following her into the hall, “I’ll uh, I’ll leave ye to it then.” 

Claire stopped and looked at him, “Would you like to come with me to the hospital and watch the surgery?” 

“I can do that? They allow it?” Jamie asked his eyes widening at the sudden thought. He would be lying if he wasn’t pleased with her request. 

“Of course,” she smiled, picking up her purse from the chair beside the door. “You’ll be my special guest. Just don’t touch anything and I hope you’re not easily sickened by the sight of blood.”

“Ye willna even realise I’m there,” he smiled, opening the door for her. 

“Well then you’re coming with me,” Claire walked out of the house first, grabbing the car keys on the way. 

Jamie blinked, adrenaline rushing up in his bloodstream. He was thankful to however was getting a new heart transplant right now. _It was going to be a long and eventful night._


	5. Matters of The Heart

The drive from Oxford to London had been done in almost complete silence between Jamie and Mrs Beauchamp. She was focused on the road and he was focused on her _– though, he tried not to show it too much._ Classical music was softly playing from the radio and he wondered briefly if that’s what she always listened to? 

They had arrived at the hospital some thirty minutes after leaving her house and once there, it had been frantic. Claire had changed into her blue scrubs and then lead him towards the operatory block.

“You can wear this,” she handed him a hair cap, some matching scrubs and shoe protector. “Wash your hands, for at least ten minutes.”

Jamie nodded, putting on everything she had given him while she started the task of washing her own hands. Delicately at first, making the soap bubble on her porcelain skin. Rinsing once. Soaping her hands and forearms again to scrub more meticulously this time. She repeated the procedure a few times and he did the same thing, hurrying when he noticed she was done and waiting for him. Hands raised up not to touch anything.

“Now come with me and do not touch anything, alright? You’ll stand in the corner with the other interns observing. If you get tired of standing on your feet, either find yourself a seat without disturbing anyone or just leave the room and I’ll see you once I’m done,” She explained before pushing the doors open with her hip. 

Her bossiness wasn’t lost on him… _nor the fact that it turned him on._

Claire walked inside first, the room already packed with at least eight other people who were waiting for her. Plus the patient lying unconscious on the table, awaiting the transplant. Everyone turned to her, greeting her. The anaesthetist briefly briefed her on the patient’s case and details, along with his own anaesthesia process while a nurse tied up a mask for her and graced her delicate hands with gloves.

Once Doctor Beauchamp was ready, everyone grew quiet and took place where they were supposed to be. The only sound in the room was a mixture of breaths and the beeping of the heart rate monitor. Then Claire looked over at a nurse in the corner and she laid down the needle on a record player in the corner. The soft, foot-tapping sound of jazz echoed in the room and Jamie could see the doctor’s whisky eyes smile.

Jamie had never been inside an operating theatre. The lights were harsh and he felt cold, everything in sight was sterile and white. He prided himself at not being squeamish at the sight of blood, but there would soon be an open body on the table and that was another matter entirely. 

He joined the interns in the corner, muttering quick hellos. They probably wondered who he was and why he was here. Jamie did feel quite special as a guest of Doctor Beauchamp and he knew the interns thought she was amazing by the looks of awe they gave her. 

Orders were given, and a scalpel was placed in Claire’s gloved hand. The first cut made Jamie wince in sympathy. The interns looked over at him with strange looks _– they hadn’t made a sound, obviously used to a knife cutting into human flesh._ He noticed how her hands were perfectly stable, not slightly shaking for even a second while she opened up the patient’s chest. 

Jamie realized he hadn’t breathed as he watched Claire cut into the flesh and he took a deep breath, trying not to cough at the smell of alcohol. It all became a blur as hands were crossed over the patient with clamps and sutures. He saw two other doctors in the corner, ready with the new heart _– waiting on a bed of ice._

He had no idea how much time passed, the concept becoming a blurry haze as he watched Claire work her magic. At some point, she replaced the heart, everyone in the room holding their breath to see the surgeon at work. And most importantly, to see if the patient would survive the most difficult part of the procedure. 

Everyone stayed calm but Jamie could see the panic in their eyes. Except in Claire’s. In hers floated determination and not an inch of fear as she took the new organ _– vibrant with life –_ presented to her and placed it where it was supposed to be. He couldn’t help but feel as if she was actually holding his heart in her hands and he would have gladly let her do it. 

It wasn’t only his heart that was beating erratically for Claire as he watched her at work, he felt himself getting turned on at her confidence with a knife in her hand. He tried to imagine what she looked like during her first surgery, but all he could see was the powerful woman before him. If there was anyone that could make teal doctor’s scrubs look sexy, it was Mrs Beauchamp. He wondered what it would be like to tear her out of her scrubs and make love to her in the on-call room. _Her body pressed against his and her curls untied and wild_. 

The beeping of the monitor and the cheering of the operating theatre knocked him out of his trance. _The heart transplant was successful._ Claire was beaming and she left the rest to another junior doctor as she stripped her hands from their bloody gloves. He saw the weight lift off her shoulders as she finished watching the patient be stitched up. For the first time since they had stepped inside the room, she finally looked in his direction. Their eyes locking, erasing the presence of every single other person in the room. 

He cheesily gave her a thumbs up and she laughed. He couldn’t wait to tell her how amazing she was whenever they got out of the room. The sight of the open body didn’t freak him out too much, but he wasn’t exactly up close and personal with it. 

Claire checked to see the surgery was wrapping up well and when she saw it was, she left to wash her hands again. She looked through the glass and motioned for Jamie to join her. 

“That was amazing!” He exclaimed when he saw her and had to hold himself back from the overwhelming sensation to hug her. “I’ve never seen somethin’ so… captivating as a human heart being put into a body.” 

Claire smiled and pumped soap into her hands. “It’s rather mesmerizing. I remember the first time I saw a human heart,” she said wistfully. “Wash your hands again, I’ll make sure the patient is alright and then we can head back to Oxford.” 

“Aye,” Jamie did as she said, pumping soap onto his hands, even though he hadn’t touched anything. The thought of spending more time with her alone in the car was exhilarating. _The last few hours had gone by way too quickly._

“You do look quite sharp in scrubs,” She said nonchalantly before disappearing from the room to go check on the patient. 

Jamie looked down at himself, blushing. He would wear scrubs every day of his life if it meant Mrs Beauchamp would comment on the way he looked. After he dried his hands, he left the room and walked out into the hallway, leaning against the wall to wait for her to return. 

Minutes passed, and when he glanced up at the clock on the wall he realized it was rather late. _Two in the morning to be exact._ Christ, he’d been out all night with Claire. 

“Ready lad?” Claire walked over to him, changed back into her rather elegant outfit, her satchel dangling from her shoulder. 

“Aye,” he nodded, following her out of the hospital. “Let me carry that for ye,” he smiled, taking her bag without asking her anything. 

“Such a gentleman,” she smiled, walking towards her car. “I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time, I should have known this would take so long when I got the call –”

“Tis alright, I dinna have classes tomorrow.” They both got inside the vehicle and she started it, putting a cigarette between her lips at the same time.

“And like I said, it was fascinatin’.” Before she had time to do anything else, Jamie had got hold of the little box of matches and had ignited one in front of her cigarette. He lit it for her, carefully watching her taking a sharp inhalation. 

“I’m glad you think so,” Claire opened her window and blew out some smoke before starting to drive. “At least, at this hour of the night there’s no traffic,” she grinned. 

Jamie wished there was traffic because then it would mean they would spend more time together. Claire flicked her wrist on a few knobs and music came through the radio. It was jazz again. 

“Ye really like jazz, don’t ye?” Jamie asked, looking at her. 

“I do,” Claire grinned softly. “I lived during one of the best era’s for it, and it reminds me of when I was younger.” 

“So when ye were three years old?” Jamie laughed and Claire nudged him in the ribs. 

“I’m not a young gun like yourself anymore,” she chuckled. “I know I look like a woman in her twenties though.” She joked, already almost finished with her smoke. 

“Ye do,” Jamie agreed. “Yer beautiful, Mrs. Beauchamp.” 

She looked over at him, and even in the darkness, he knew she was blushing. “Claire,” she replied and turned her attention back to the road. 

The music sounded romantic, and Jamie was feeling like he needed to make some bold gesture, but instead, he simply laid his hand in the middle of the seat. 

Billie Holiday’s _I’ll Be Seeing You_ filled their ears and Jamie wasn’t shocked whenever he felt Claire’s hand slide over his, squeezing it gently. He was shocked, however, when she left her hand on his and so he interlaced their fingers together. 

They rode hand in hand for the remainder of the car journey back to Oxford, both not saying anything, just enjoying the comfortable stillness between them. Jamie found out they didn’t need many words to actually communicate. He rubbed his thumb over her hand, wanting very badly to kiss her again, but then she might wreck the car. 

To his utter disappointment, the car came to a stop outside of Claire’s house and their hands came apart. 

“Would you like to come inside?” She said as they climbed out of the car. “I would understand if you’d rather go home at such a late hour, though.” 

“Do ye still have some of the good whisky from last time?” His lip flicked up in a smile. One she returned. 

“Of course. Come,” she motioned with her head towards the house and went inside. 

**********

Even though it was at such a late hour, Jamie didn’t feel tired. He sat comfortably on the leather sofa, one he was becoming rather familiar with. He and Claire were on their fourth drinks of the night. He had complimented her on her surgery more times than he could count, the alcohol was making him talkative. 

“You’re more than welcome to come and watch another surgery,” Claire sipped her drink. She had let her hair down from her bun and it was a mass of riotous curls around her face. He had to fight the urge to run his fingers through them. 

“Of course, not every surgery is as exciting as heart surgery, but that’s what I mostly handle these days.” 

“I’d love to!” Jamie smiled. “I could watch ye do anythin’.” 

Claire coughed, her cheeks a light pink. She glanced down at the watch on her wrist and covered her mouth. “Oh good, Lord! It’s nearly five in the morning!” 

“It is? Och, I guess we lost track of time,” he suddenly yawned, feeling the sleepiness. 

“You’re welcome to stay here on the sofa, but I know it’s not very comfortable,” she rose, collecting both of their empty glasses. “So, if you decide to head home, I shall see you at school later this week.” 

“Oh,” Jamie sat there, unsure whether to stay or leave. _She had told him he could stay, but would it be awkward come morning?_ Technically, it was already morning. The thought of finding his way home, with several drinks in him was not appealing. 

Claire gave him a smile and walked out of the living room, “There’s a plaid in the closet in the hall,” her voice echoed back inside the room. 

It sounded like she wanted him to stay. He would have to sleep in his clothes from earlier, a button-down shirt and khaki trousers. The idea of Claire sleeping just upstairs was thrilling. As he settled back against the sofa, he wondered what she slept in _– if anything at all_. He swore he would wake up early to leave the house before she could see him and regret asking him to stay. After all, she had a few drinks too, maybe she wasn’t thinking clearly. 

The lights were already off, they had been sitting there in the candlelight. Jamie heard Claire’s footsteps on the stairs and a moment later, a door shut. He got up and walked over to the closet in the hall, looking for the plaid. It was stuffed full of expensive lookings coats. He reached for the arm of one, feeling how soft it was. He couldn’t help himself as he leaned in and sniffed it. _Cigarettes and vanilla, with a hint of patchouli._

Jamie let go of the coat and took the plaid, returning to lay on the sofa. Light footsteps came from above and he shut his eyes, imagining that he was upstairs in the room with her. She would be dressed _– or not –_ lying on the bed, her hands resting lightly on her stomach. He would be next to her, stroking the delicate skin of her cheek. 

As Jamie let his fantasies run wild, he slid his hand into his trousers and under the waistband of his boxers. He thought of Claire, her curls fanning around her face and her plump lips as he kissed them the other night. His hand sped up on his cock, straining to be free _– he wanted to know what she felt like._

As he pictured her naked and lying underneath him on her bed upstairs, Jamie came and moaned, quickly covering his mouth with his other hand to silence himself. His breathing was rapid, and he could have sworn he heard the sound of a door open and close. 

Suddenly, he felt foolish and ashamed. He removed his hand, and rolled onto his side, covering himself with the plaid. Letting sleep overtake him, Jamie closed his eyes, dreaming yet again of Mrs Beauchamp. 

**********

When Jamie woke up later that day, he was disoriented and didn’t know what time it was. From the amount of light coming through the windows, it was already pretty late into the morning but then he remembered he fell asleep at around five. 

The house was quiet _– too quiet –_ and he realised Claire was most likely still asleep. Rubbing his eyes, he yawned and turned onto his other side. He didn’t want to get up just yet. Despite the sofa situation, it had been the most peaceful night of sleep he had had since a very long time. 

He blinked, letting his eyes accustom themselves to the vivid sunlight all over again when he saw her walk in. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Claire in her pink robe. 

“Oh, Jamie,” she looked at him, genuinely surprised to see him. “I didn’t know you were still here.” 

“I didna mean to sleep so late,” he sat up, smiling sleepily. “I’m sorry, I’ll be on my way soon enough –”

“Would you like some breakfast? You’re here, after all, I’m not going to throw you out,” she chuckled softly, crossing her arms in front of her deep cut v-neck. 

Jamie had no time to answer before his stomach growled and he blushed. 

“I take this as a yes,” her laugh echoed in the room as she left. “What would you like to eat?” She asked loudly from the kitchen. 

“I’ll eat anythin’ ye got, eggs, bacon, pancakes…” he listed a few of his favourites as he followed her. 

“Oh, so a simple feast?” She chuckled and opened her fridge. Jamie stood in the doorway, watching as she bent over. 

“Eggs will do,” he grinned. 

“I can scramble some up,” she took out a few eggs and placed them beside the stove. “And some toast. If I don’t end up burning it. Go and sit at the table,” she waved over at a small table and chairs near the window. 

“Ye do have a lovely home,” Jamie commented as he sat down. 

“It’s the perfect home really, thank you,” she smiled and cracked an egg into a bowl. “Just big enough, but with room to grow.” 

Jamie wasn’t sure what she meant exactly by room to grow, but he found himself picturing her pregnant with his child, her belly full and round. He shook this far fetched idea out of his head and crossed one leg over the other. 

“I’ve been meanin’ to ask ye when ye are next available for the last interview? I figured ye might not want to do it on yer day off.”

“Oh, I don’t mind!” Claire smiled, stirring the eggs in a small bowl. “But, I do feel a little out of it after staying up so late. Perhaps sometime this week in my office?” 

“Aye, sounds great. I’ll swing by after my class on Friday.” He couldn’t help but look at her decolleté while she stirred, her breasts bouncing. 

“No big plans Friday night? Don’t have a date with your girlfriend?” Claire asked as she poured the eggs into the frying pan. 

“Oh,” Jamie coughed. “That would be difficult to have a date wi’ her since we’re no longer together.” 

“Oh,” Claire echoed him. “I’m sorry to hear that. She seemed… sweet. Well, I’m sure a lad like you will have plenty of girls climbing into your bed in no time,” she laughed a bit forcefully. 

Jamie hoped she wouldn’t look over at him and see how red his face was. The heat creeping upon his neck and face was making him sweat. When he didn’t laugh nor smile at her joke, she did look over at him. 

“Sorry,” she bit her lip. “I don’t mean to imply you’re some kind of man slut, but surely a dashing lad like you won’t have trouble finding another girl to occupy yourself with?”

“I dinna want a girl,” he cleared his throat. “And besides, I’ve never had a lass in my bed so I won’t be missing it anytime soon.” 

Claire placed the spatula down beside the stove and turned towards him, her legs bare and peeking through the robe. “So, you mean to tell me you’ve never been with anyone – sexually?”

“Aye,” Jamie audibly gulped. “I’m a virgin, Mrs Beauchamp.” 

She didn’t laugh like he expected her too, but smiled softly, as if he had just said something endearing. 

“You know, about the other night,” she started and scooped their eggs onto small plates. “When we kissed…” 

“I’ve been meanin’ to say how sorry I am for overstepping the boundaries,” Jamie interrupted her. The topic had to come up, eventually. 

“It’s okay, Jamie,” Claire walked over to him. “But I have to know.” 

“Aye?” He stared up at her, very aware of how close their bodies were now. _Of how low cut her robe was._

“Did you break up with Charlotte before or after we kissed?” She glanced down at him, her hand coming to brush a curl away from his face. 

He could lie and say before they kissed because then it wouldn’t seem like she was the reason he broke up with Charlotte. But, he didn’t want any lies between them, only the truth. Jamie reached for her hand and squeezed it. 

“After we kissed,” he replied, his eyes travelling along her body, “But, I wasn’t in love with her anyway.”

_He was in love with someone else._

“Did you break up with Charlotte because of me?” Her hand rested on his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat increase with each passing second. The feeling of her fingers against him already driving him mad. 

“Aye.” He whispered, his eyes travelling along her body as he looked up at her.   
  
Claire leaned down, her face coming closer to his. _Mouths barely an inch from one another._ His lips trembled for hers and his body almost convulsed at what she asked him next. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thursday and thank you so much for reading! In case you missed the wee note we posted, from next week, we’ll add a bonus chapter every Saturday along with the current posting schedule.


	6. Abandon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new posting schedule (Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday) starts this week <3 
> 
> Thanks for reading and enjoy <3

“Did you break up with Charlotte because of me?” Her hand rested on his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat increase with each passing second. The feeling of her fingers against him already driving him mad.

“Aye.” He whispered, his eyes travelling along her body as he looked up at her.

Claire leaned down, her face coming closer to his. _Mouths barely an inch from one another._ His lips trembled for hers and his body almost convulsed at what she asked him next.

“Would you like me to seduce you? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” Her voice was raspy and posh but almost a whisper. Jamie was afraid he didn’t hear her correctly.

Jamie slid his hands to rest on her waist and pulled her to sit on his lap. Brushing a stray curl behind her ear, they paused, simply looking into one another’s eyes. _There was no turning back now._ It was Claire who leaned in and sealed their lips together.

 _Warm._ Her lips were warm, and Jamie never wanted to part from her. One hand settled on the round curve of her arse, lightly squeezing while the other cupped her cheek. Claire was making so many wee sounds that were driving Jamie insane.

Suddenly, Claire stood up, tugging on the collar of his shirt and pressed him against the counter. He was much taller than her, and she was barefoot, now having to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him.

“Aye, I want you to,” he whispered against her lips in between kisses. “Verra bad.”

She snaked her tongue out, flicking it against his lip and kept one hand on his cheek, her fingers lightly brushing over the scruff there – what little he had of it anyways.

“Are you sure?” She asked, raising her eyebrows in question. _Daring him._

Of course, for her, she was about to sleep with a student _– not her student, but a student nonetheless._ The look in her eye, however, told Jamie that she wasn’t dwelling on that particular fact.

As Jamie glanced down, he noticed that her robe had come untied and was now hanging loose. The hard buds of her nipples were poking out of the silk material, and all Jamie wanted was to put his lips around one. Slowly, almost reverently, he ran his hands along her sides, enjoying the feeling of her in his hands.

“I’ve never been so sure of anythin’ in my life,” Jamie assured her.

“I need ye.” he added, almost breathless.

Claire placed a kiss to his chin, and took a step backwards, holding out her hand.

“Follow me, lad,” she smiled and Jamie reached out, taking a tight hold of her hand.

Jamie had kissed his fair share of girls. He even managed to find his hand in their sweaters, cupping their breasts on occasion But, for some reason, he had never properly lain with a woman before. He knew it was odd, for someone his age and with his looks to still be a virgin. Which is why he expected Mrs Beauchamp to laugh when he told her.

Claire had the same sweet smile on her lips as she did earlier as she led him through the house, and up the stairs where he’d never been before. He could see it – her bedroom just down the hall. Jamie had spent countless nights imagining what it would look like. _He was about to find out._

“Sorry about the mess,” Claire muttered as they walked through the door. There were clothes littered around the room as if she had a hard time figuring out what to wear. His eyes wandered over the small room, seeing little bottles of perfume on her vanity, books stacked beside the bed and an ashtray for her cigarettes.

“I like it,” Jamie commented, grinning. “It has a nice womanly touch.”

He was surprised to find that Claire looked nervous standing here in her room. Earlier, she had been almost commanding of him, taking charge. It’s not like Jamie had any inkling of what he was doing.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” she admitted as she stood at the end of the bed. “At least, not with anyone I care about.”

_She cared about him._

At least, that’s what Jamie took out of what she said. If he was going to lose his virginity, then he was glad it was with her, the woman of his dreams.

“Och, well, I’ve never done it,” he chuckled and took a step towards her. “Tis no like I have anythin’ to compare it to. As far as I’m concerned, yer the best I’ve ever had.”

Claire laughed loudly, her hand flying over her mouth, “You do know how to flatter an old woman.”

“Nah,” Jamie closed the space between them, resting his hand on her cheek. “Yer no old, Claire. Yer the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” 

“Oh so you’ve seen naked women before?” Her smirk grew. 

“Aye,” he admitted, heat rising to his cheeks. “But not one so close...and no’ one that’s mine.” 

Her smile faded into something that looked like absolute desire and she reached for Jamie’s hands, bringing them to her shoulders. With her robe already untied, all he had to do was simply push down the material from her arms and it fell to the ground.

As Claire stood naked in front of him, Jamie gasped and took a step backwards. She started to cover herself, a look of embarrassment on her face.

“No!” Jamie shook his head. “I want to look at ye. I meant it when I said ye were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

With that, Claire dropped her arms to her side, her eyes trained on Jamie. He let his eyes drift across her chest, down her smooth stomach, and in between her thighs. She had a small patch of hair, almost as if beckoning him to fit himself just there.

“Will ye have me?” He rasped, his heart nearly bursting out of his chest.

“Yes,” her hands found the first button of his shirt. “Yes, I’ll have you.”

Thankfully, Jamie hadn’t completely buttoned up his shirt, and soon it was on the floor next to her robe. Feeling confident again, Claire spun him around until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he fell backwards. The bed bounced underneath him and he laughed.

He felt his cock twitch as Claire’s hands landed on the buttons of his pants. “Christ,” he muttered, his voice strained as she tugged them down his legs. All that remained was his black briefs.

“I cannot believe that you’re a virgin,” Claire stood at the end of the bed, admiring his toned form. “Look at you!”

“Look at ye,” Jamie tried to wink, but it looked more like both eyes blinking quickly. As Claire’s small hands rested on the waistband of his briefs, he took a deep breath. She pulled them down slowly, almost too slowly, to reveal his already hard cock.

Claire blinked, looking down at him, “Now, I really have a hard time believing no one has ridden this.”

“Claire!” Jamie laughed at her mischievous expression, his heart beaming at the lightness in her tone. Then, he groaned as she threw his briefs behind her, her eyes darkening with lust. Finally, she climbed onto the bed, and he was quick to place his hands onto her back, flipping her over to rest under him.

He leaned down, capturing her lips once again, their tongues meeting in the middle. Soft moans escaped both of their mouths and Claire began to writhe underneath him.

“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” She asked, breathless.

Jamie cocked his brow, “ I said I was a virgin, no a monk. If I need guidance, I’ll ask.”

The moment he’d been waiting for nearly all his life was about to happen. His slid one hand down between their bodies and nearly convulsed when he felt how wet she was. Claire held his gaze, spreading her legs for him. At least one of them was experienced in this area.

Carefully, Jamie slid forward, entering her warm depths. He felt her walls squeeze around him, sucking him in. One of her legs wrapped around his waist and all he could do was hold himself there while he revelled in the feeling of being inside of her.

“You can move a little,” she said softly, one hand cupping his cheek.

Jamie felt like he could cry at the gentleness in her voice. Slowly, so as not to hurt her, Jamie began to thrust forward. He still wasn’t quite sure what to do, but when Claire started to moan, her sounds filling the room, Jamie began to move deeper inside.

It was the most incredible feeling Jamie had ever felt in all his life. He rolled his hips a few times, eliciting more cries of pleasure from her. The scot felt like he was on top of the world. He opened his eyes to look at her, and when he caught sight of her face, eyes glued to his, mouth slightly open, he felt something deep in his belly and that’s when he came.

It was much sooner than he would have liked, and he felt ashamed. His body shook on top of hers, and it took everything in him not to crush her.

“I’m sorry,” he panted as he buried his face in her neck. Her hands rested on the sweaty nape of his neck, smoothing the curls there.

“It’s okay,” she spoke softly, gently kissing his temple. “Give me your hand.”

“What?” Frowning, he pulled back to look down at her, but she was already pulling his hand down between their legs. Jamie hadn’t pulled out of her yet, but she placed his fingers in a v-shape on the entrance of her lips.

“This little button right…” she moved his thumb, “here, is called the clitoris. You can be very firm.”

Claire moved his thumb in a circular motion and he caught on rather quickly and her hand left his. He focused intently, learning the ways of her body. Whenever he pressed down on her clitoris, as she called it, and moved his fingers against her, her back would arch off the bed.

“Yes, like that…” Claire moaned, and Jamie felt himself harden inside of her. He kept his hand on her though, moving it quickly and then slowing down as he brought her to her peak.

This was truly the most wondrous sight Jamie had ever seen. Claire Beauchamp, writhing underneath him, moaning because of his hands. Her breasts pressed against his chest and finally, Jamie dipped his head down and closed his mouth over one hard nipple.

This caused an almost shriek from Claire, and Jamie released it, pulling back and wondering if he had done something wrong or worse, hurt her.

“Are ye alright?” He asked, panicking.

“Yes,” she sighed in ecstasy. “Do it again.”

“Oh,” Jamie blushed and smirked, lowering his head to her chest once again. He slid his tongue out to taste her, flicking out against the hardened peak. He loved the way she pressed against him, as if she couldn’t get any closer.

In all the excitement, Jamie’s cock had grown hard again, and so he removed his hand from between them and placed it over her other breast, squeezing it firmly. Apparently, Claire liked this a lot.

“Faster,” she told him. Ordered even, and Jamie reared back before pushing to the hilt. Leaning down, Jamie pressed his lips frantically over hers. He could feel that he was about to come again, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to wait.

But then he felt her and opened his eyes to see the most beautiful expression on Claire’s face. Her mouth was parted, her head thrown back, and she was shaking slightly. Her walls clenched around his cock, and for the second time, Jamie came.

Both of them lay there, sweat-drenched and bodies tingling for what felt like hours.

Claire turned her head to look at him, her chest hissing and smiled. Almost turning shy again. She cupped his cheek and moved closer to him to seal their lips. His arms came around her waist and pulled her close. He didn’t know what to say to her. He was afraid to ask if she had liked it. Thankfully, she spoke first.

“Was it how you thought it would be?” Her index finger stroked his chin, her eyes locked with his waiting for an answer.

“I…well.” The heat rose in his cheeks and he knew instantly he was blushing. Something she noticed immediately.

“Well?” Her eyebrows rose in questions.

“I like it verra much, aye.” He smiled, resting his hand on the curve of her ass. “I just thought it was done the back way, like horses.”

Claire’s laugh echoed in the room as she hid her face in the crook of his neck. _He was mortified._

Looking at him again, she grinned, “You can do it that way as well. But it’s not ideal for a first time, lad.”

“Oh,” he relaxed, smiling.

“Maybe some other time,” she said nonchalantly, kissing his lips before turning over to grab a cigarette from her bedside table.

 _Some other time._ He blinked, surely he had misheard her. _Or maybe she really wanted to do it again._

Claire sat up, igniting a match to light her cigarette. She took a long inhalation and blew out the smoke, leaning back against the headboard. All of this while Jamie’s eyes were glued on her – as if she was some sort of vision. Suddenly, he felt very bold and blurted out the first thing that came to him.

“Would you marry me?”

She coughed, swallowing some smoke at the shock of his sudden question.

Chuckling, she asked: “Wot?”

He sat up in turn, taking her hand, “Well, I thought…”

“Jamie, I can’t marry you,” she rested the cigarette in the ashtray and moved closer to him. “For one thing, we barely know one another and for another, you’re really young.”

“Age is just a number,” he brushed it off, stroking her cheek. “I dinna care about yer age. Or mine, for that matter.”

“You’re saying this because you’re a man,” she grinned, “If you were the one that was forty and going out with twenty years olds, people would applaud you. In this case, I’m the one with loose morals.”

“‘Tis none of people’s business.” He laid on his side, resting his head against his palm to watch her. “And ye said goin’ out…Are we goin’ out?” He asked, a mischievous grin forming on his lips as he stroked her hipbone.

“You tend to ask quite a lot of questions.” She picked up her cigarette again, chuckling softly.

“I’ve always been a curious lad, ye ken,” he laid his head on her chest, her breasts like a soft pillow and stroked her side.

“So I’ve noticed,” Claire said softly, stroking his damp curls with her free hand. “Is there anything, in particular, you’re curious about?”

“Well,” he tilted started to say and then shook his head. “Nah, nevermind.”

“No, tell me,” Claire encouraged him. “You have to tell me now!”

“It’s just,” he turned his head to look at her. “Does it happen like that wi’ a woman… every time?”

“You mean does a woman orgasm every time?” Claire asked and Jamie nodded. “No, she doesn’t. It usually takes her longer to get there than the man, and she needs special attention down there most times. But, a woman can orgasm every time if the man is a very good lover.”

“I want it to happen for ye every time,” Jamie said and she leaned down and kissed him. “Every time,” he mumbled.

“There are lots of ways to please a woman, lad.” She whispered against his lips. “I’m confident enough about you to know you’re going to be a very good lover.” 

“Claire…” He looked at her, chewing on his bottom lip. Hesitant to ask what he was about to ask next, he took a long breath and gathered his courage.

“Did you have a lot of lovers?” The question escaped him even before she had the time to say anything back to him. He carefully studied her face as she processed what he had just asked. He learned quickly that she had a glass face and she was like an open book.

“What do you mean by _a lot?_ I don’t spend my time sleeping around with all the men I meet if that’s what you were wondering,” she smirked, seeing how much he had started to blush again. She finished her cigarette and put the butt in the ashtray.

“I had my husband for the short time we were married and since the war, I had a few lovers, yes. I’m a loner, darling. Not a nun.”

“Did they treat ye well, at least?” He asked, and reached up to stroke her chin.

“Of course,” she smiled, kissing the tip of his nose. “And like I told you earlier, I haven’t done this in a while.”

“I hope ye dinna wait a while before the next time ye do it,” Jamie smirked.

Claire laughed and snaked her way down Jamie’s back, feeling the hard muscles there before resting on his arse. “Is someone eager, perhaps?”

“Well, who can blame me when I’ve got the sexiest woman lying naked in bed wi’ me?” Jamie rolled over onto his back, looking at Claire with pleading eyes.

“What else were ye goin’ to do?” He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her to sit over his stomach. “Grade papers?”

“Actually yes, I was.” She flexed her hips, and Jamie felt the nice rasp of her pubic hair against his belly. “And I’ve got this history student interviewing me at some point, too. I’ll have you know I’m a very busy woman.”

“I ken ye are,” Jamie’s hands rested on her hips, pushing her backwards. His cock slid in between them, and she wiggled her hips, rolling against it. “I hope ye can give this history student of yers the proper attention he deserves.”

“He’ll get what he deserves alright,” Claire sighed, putting one hand on his chest and the other taking a grip on his cock. Jamie lowered his eyes and watched as she rubbed it over her slick folds. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever witnessed as she sank down on him. Both of them groaned at the feeling.

“Christ!” Jamie nearly shouted as Claire began to gyrate her hips. With one hand over his heart and the other at the place of their joining, Jamie wondered how long he would last this time. Her breasts bounced with each movement, and he moved his palm over one, squeezing it. Claire bit her lip and moved her hips faster, riding him hard.

She said she hadn’t had too many lovers, but she sure as hell knew what she was doing. Her hips moved in an almost figure eight movement, and she leaned down, her breasts dangling over his lips as she placed both hands on the headboard.

Jamie took one pretty pink nipple into his mouth, sucking and hollowing out his cheeks. The headboard started to bang against the wall, and he was suddenly very glad they had not gone back to his apartment that he shared with other people.

As he sucked on her breast, he placed both hands on her arse to help move her on top of him. Her round arse was firm and yet plump, impressive for someone her age. He thrust upwards, hitting something deep inside her and she cried out his name.

“Jamie!” She whimpered and her thighs clenched down around him and this time they came together.

They laid tangled together in silence for a long time afterwards. Their breathing synced and slow. The tip of his fingers drawing patterns on the porcelain skin of her leg as she was falling asleep in his arms. Her lips twitched into a smile and the sight altogether melted his heart.

Jamie still quite couldn’t believe he was here. In her bed. Even more, he couldn’t believe what had happened today. Surely, he would wake up soon and all of this would have simply been another dream.

He didn’t know how much time went on and that he spent simply watching her. Studying every detail about her face and her body. Memorising it all in case it would never happen again – feeling a pinching at his heart at that thought.

Claire moved again and he froze, afraid he had woken her up but he hadn’t. She had simply switched position to rest more comfortably, her hand in his.

His eyes travelled up their linked hands and to the inside of her arm, frowning at what he noticed there. It wasn’t very big and he had not paid attention to it before this moment, but he saw it clearly. The five numbers badly inked into her skin like a stamp. It was a bit faded but there nonetheless. Remnants of the war, of something she didn’t want to talk about. 

_The sight chilling his bones._


	7. Secrets Of The Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the response to the last chapter! We’re so grateful you guys enjoy this story so much and we can’t wait to share more! This is one of the few chapters told in Claire’s POV and some things about her past are finally revealed. 
> 
> *The events retold in this chapter are part of a time of history that should not be forgotten. It's very important to keep telling these stories, even after all these years, so history doesn't repeat itself. We hope we did it justice. 
> 
> Enjoy and see you on Saturday for the next chapter!

When Claire stirred slowly, her lids were heavy and a pleasant ache was rooted in her body – one that reminded her just what she had been doing before she had succumbed to slumber in Jamie’s arm. 

_Jamie_

Opening her eyes, she relaxed seeing he was very much still there. Asleep on his back, his head slightly turned to face her. His lip was flicked up into a peaceful little smile. _A sweet sight that made her heart beam._ They both had fallen asleep a couple of hours ago, somewhere around lunchtime and it was now late in the afternoon. 

She watched his chest move up and down with the steady sound of his breathing, the only noise in the room. One of his arms was behind his head, acting as a barrier between him and the pillow. And the other was flung over his chest. He looked…pleased. Which was probably due to the detail of his recently popped cherry. Claire leaned back again, pulling the covers over her and smiled absently, thinking back on the activities of the morning. 

Jamie had been yet too hungry and too clumsy for tenderness but still, he made love with a sort of unflagging joy that made her think that male virginity might be a highly underrated commodity. The only other time her partner had been a virgin, it had been on her wedding night. _And she had been one too._ Scared and terrified, yet excited about what was about to happen. She had to admit, she didn’t like her first time all that much. It had been uncomfortable, slightly awkward but now, she looked back on it with a fond memory, remembering the laughs shared with Elliot. 

She had been a girl, then. _Barely nineteen._ Naive and excited about the world. Until the war broke and tore apart her life, taking away her uncle and her husband. _Taking away normalcy and safety._ Everyone came out of it changed, no matter how much they had tried, back then, to go back to slight normalcy. Some had been burdened even more than others but they all had been stamped for life. 

A shiver ran down her spine as the thoughts crossed her mind and she quickly closed her eyes to shut them off. _It was over now._ It had been over for fifteen years. _It was the past._

Now, Claire was a woman _– with experiences and an outlook on life._ One that was far different than the one she had when she was nineteen. Looking at Jamie again, she briefly wondered what type of man he would be when he’d be forty. _What type of women he would marry?_ _Would he remember her, by then?_

She quite couldn’t comprehend how he had noticed her, of all people. Not that she wasn’t aware of how the men looked at her but he was young and good looking, surely girls on campus were throwing themselves at him. Yet, here he was. In her bed _– eager to come back time and time again._ Eager to please her. 

She remembered clearly the first time she had noticed Jamie in the hall. He had been staring at her walking by _– he was hard to miss with his fiery red hair and his impressive height._ Nonetheless, she had pretended not to see him and continued on. It had taken him two years but finally, he had found the courage to go and talk to her. Something she was very grateful for, even if she wouldn’t admit it to him just yet.

Smiling absently, she got up and grabbed her silk robe from the leather chair in the corner, along with a cigarette and the box of matches. She put the garment on, loosely tying it at the waist by the belt. Taking another look at him, her breath caught and something in her stomach tickled. She had to remind herself this wasn’t going to be anything serious. _It couldn’t._ He was younger. He was a student. 

Claire bent down and delicately stamped his temple with her lips, careful not to wake him up. She then walked out of the bedroom and went downstairs to prepare some tea. 

Her steps were slow as she was lighting the cigarette on her way to the kitchen. She briefly turned her head to check what time it was, thankfully, she had neither class nor surgery today. She had all the time in the world to laze around while Jamie slept upstairs. 

As she poured water into the kettle, her thoughts drifted back to the scot. She wasn’t positive, but last night she had come out of her room to go to the bathroom and she thought she heard an interesting sound. A sound a young male makes when his hand is rather occupied beneath the sheets. 

It was a confidence boost to think of Jamie pleasuring himself, possibly to the thought of her. It was silly of course because only hours later he would wind up in her bed, but a very flattering thought nonetheless. 

A few minutes later, the kettle whistled and Claire poured it over the strainer full of loose-leaf English breakfast. She finished her cigarette and picked up the mugs to go back upstairs. As she turned around, Jamie stood by the door, watching her as if he was studying a renaissance painting. The unexpected sight of the lad made her jump slightly, before she chuckled, “I didn’t hear you there.” 

“I’m sorry, I didna mean to scare ye,” he smiled, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. Much to her disappointment, he had put his boxers back on. 

“Tea?” She held up the mugs in question, not knowing what else to tell him. The awkwardness was minimal but there, nonetheless. And she could see Jamie was trying to think about what to do or say, just as much as she was. 

“Aye,” he nodded and walked over to her, taking the mug she presented him. 

“Careful, it’s boiling,” she warned him, sitting down at the table. “And there’s milk in the fridge if you want any.” 

“Thank ye, Sassenach,” he smiled as he sat down on the chair opposite hers. 

“Did you just call me –” 

“Sassenach?” Jamie grinned wickedly. “Aye, I did. I take it ye ken what it means?”

Claire eyed him suspiciously and deciding that he wasn’t being mean about it, she smiled. “I do know what it means. Why did you suddenly decide to start calling me that? We are in England after all, plenty of sassenachs around.” 

Jamie chuckled and sipped his tea. “Ye make a verra good point. Sometimes I forget I’m no in Scotland anymore. I dinna mean any offence, of course, tis just somethin’ I always called ye in my head. A term of endearment, if ye like.” 

“Well,” Claire leaned in close to him and laid her one free hand on his thigh. “I find it rather endearing when you say it. Doesn’t sound awful with that lovely accent of yours.” 

“I’ll never call ye it again if that’s what ye like?” Jamie looked at her. 

“No,” Claire shook her head, curls brushing his face. “I don’t mind it. I’ll just have to come up with something to call you.” 

“Like what?” Jamie grinned. 

“Carrot top?” Claire laughed into her tea. 

“So, I’m a clown to ye, aye?” Jamie narrowed his eyes. 

“It’s the red hair! It’s the first thing I noticed when I saw you for the first time.” Claire ran her hand through his curls. “For now, I think I’ll just call you my lad. I’m sure I’ll think of something later.” 

They sat there in comfortable silence, sipping their tea and genuinely enjoying each other’s company. Once they finished their cups, they both went back upstairs and laid back on the bed, Jamie’s arm sliding around Claire’s waist. She moved her arm to rest over his toned stomach and sighed. 

“Sassenach?” Jamie called softly, his fingers lightly stroking her arm. His tone was hesitant and she noticed it immediately. Though, she pretended she did not. 

“Yes, my lad?” She smiled, looking at him. Claire was not expecting what came out of Jamie’s mouth next, nor was she prepared to answer. 

“Earlier, while ye were sleeping, I noticed somethin’ on yer arm.” 

“Oh.” Her stomach dropped, this was something she never thought she would tell him. 

“The numbers,” he turned her arm over to show the sight in question. _Faded. Messy. Forever on her skin._

“Claire, I had no idea.” He pulled her slowly and rested his chin on top of her head, and suddenly Claire felt very fragile and like she needed protecting. 

“Ye dinna have to tell me about it, but I just want ye to know that yer safe wi’ me. As long as I’m wi’ ye, ye’ll no’ be harmed and that time is part of yer past,” he whispered before slowly bringing her arm to his lips. Almost reverently, he kissed her marked skin and she wanted to weep at his gentleness. 

Claire had started trembling only slightly, unsure whether or not she should tell him the truth of her past. For so long, she had been haunted by it. _By what she saw, what she lived through._ For so many years she had kept it all to herself, hiding her arm and not mentioning the tattoo to whoever had ever caught a quick glance at it. She had noticed the horror in their eyes whenever that happened but she always stayed quiet. 

Now, looking at the scot’s blue eyes, she didn’t see any horror. She saw a need to know. _To understand who she was and who she had been._ But in no way was it intrusive or out of unhealthy curiosity. 

“I can tell you,” she finally said, her voice barely a whisper. “But you have to promise me two things.” She looked at him, feeling a knot in her stomach. 

“Anythin’,” he cupped her cheek, nodding. 

“First, you won’t write about it in your paper and second, I don’t want what I’m about to say to you to change the perception you have of me. I don’t want you to feel sorry or bad about it because like you just said, it’s the past. I can’t change it and neither can you.” 

Something flashed through his eyes this time _– something too quick to grasp but she saw it._ He was frightened about what she was about to tell him. Frightened because as a history student, he had knowledge of what it could be. _Of what it was._ Nonetheless, Jamie nodded and stamped her temple with a tender kiss. 

“I promise.” He said sincerely, his tone low and gentle. 

Claire quickly glanced toward her arm, sensing a lump forming in her throat. She was used to the sight by now _– the reminder of her time there._ A time she would never forget about, no matter how many times she tried. But sometimes she forgot she was stamped until her eyes would catch the numbers, messily inked on her porcelain skin. 

She didn’t remember how badly it had hurt when they had done it to her. What she did remember, however, was that she didn’t cry when it had been done. _She had wanted to, badly_. The tears coming up, menacing to spill, every time she had looked at it but then, she would look around. She would see where she was and the state the people were in and she would swallow back the tears. She survived through hell when so many others had not been so lucky, that guilt alone tend to keep her up at night for so many years. 

So many others had not lived to tell their stories. She had to do it, if not for herself, for them, at least. 

“Well, I don’t need to tell you what it is,” she pulled on the sleeve of her robe to hide her arm. “You know what that was for and where it was done.”

Jamie nodded, without a word. _Everyone knew, lovers of history or not._

“Like I told you, I was a nurse in France for most of the war but in the winter of 43, I was transferred from the field hospital I was at, in Rouen, to a smaller one in a little village near Caen. This one wasn’t for the wounded soldiers, it was for the people who lived around there. It had been badly bombed and quite a lot of people were injured. I was only supposed to stay for a few weeks, two months at best but I ended up staying in the village longer than I had planned. Mostly because I met a woman there,” Claire couldn’t help but smile at that, remembering her dear friend. 

“Her name was Jeanne and she was in her sixties, or something like that. She helped at the hospital and she rented me a room in her home. Well, she never really made me pay so I guess I wasn’t really renting it.” She shrugged, smiling slightly before the smile disappeared as quickly as it came.

“Nazis had raided the village a few times, arresting everyone they needed to arrest and making sure whoever stayed was terrified to see them coming back. Jeanne lived in a four-storey building and the neighbours were all families with young children. Most of them were Jewish,” Claire looked at him quickly before her eyes dropped down to her hands. 

Jamie took her hand, squeezing it softly in reassurance. It was the second time she would be telling this story. She thought maybe with time it would get easier but that amount of time didn’t exist. 

“One night, Jeanne and I were woken up by the noise in the street and screams. We knew it was the nazis again. Usually, they came during the day and we were always working at the hospital so they left us alone. I don’t think they even knew anyone lived on the top floor. The few children that were left in the building came to hide in our attic right before their parents got taken away that night…” she paused, closing her eyes for a brief moment as if she tried to erase an image from her mind. 

“We weren’t sure where exactly but we had heard things. So we decided to hide the kids.” 

“We did that for weeks, I didn’t even go to the hospital anymore as I was spending all my time taking care of them and making sure they were safe. We didn’t think the Germans would be back, because there was barely anything to be back for but one night they did.” 

Claire shut her eyes again, holding onto Jamie’s hand too tightly. “That night, they took us all. We had no time to realise what was happening that we were already on a train to Poland.” 

She quickly wiped a tear away from her cheek and cleared her throat. “They didn’t tell us where we were going. It was dark, cold and snowing. We were all in pyjamas.

“It was…so cold,” she repeated in a whisper, starting to shiver. Jamie pulled up the cover around them as to shield her. 

“I don’t even know how many days we spent travelling, it doesn’t really matter in the end, I guess. I woke up at some point when the train abruptly stopped and someone started to pull us out, one by one. It was even colder there…or I was just in hypothermia, I don’t know. Maybe both.” 

“I remember looking around and seeing this long pathway going up to a gate. I remember seeing people behind it, watching us. There were so many of them and they all looked the same. Dressed in striped robes. I didn’t think anything of it by then because I was so tired, I thought my vision was deceiving me. I couldn’t possibly be seeing it.” 

“One of the German soldiers told us to follow him. One of the kids had fallen asleep in my arms so I just carried her, at least it brought warmth to both of us. By the time we reached the gate, they made us chose to join either of the two lines of the people already waiting for God knows how long. We all went towards the one on the right…” She let her sentence die as her voice grew quiet again. _Even after all these years, the image was still so vivid in her head._ She felt as if she was back there. _Exhausted and cold. Scared about the uncertainty of where she had ended up._

“I don’t know why but the soldier who had lead us there pulled me away from them and made me join the line on the left after he took the little girl away from me.” Her voice broke like a crystal vase hitting the floor. She could hear the scream the little girl had made when the soldier had ripped her away from Claire’s arms. _A chilling sound._

Jamie looked at her, understanding why her voice had just cracked. 

“I still have no idea why he pulled me toward that other line, I remember I told him I’d stay with Jeanne and the kids but he didn’t listen to me and I didn’t think it was too good of an idea to show any more resistance. I had been asking way too many questions on the train already and it took him all he had not to throw me out on the spot.” 

“The people on the right were taken away immediately after that and that was the last time I saw Jeanne and the kids.” 

“They had been sent too…” Jamie let his sentence die and she nodded, burying her face into the crook of his neck, letting the tears roam free. 

“I’m so sorry, Claire,” Jamie rubbed his hand gently over her back. “I canna even begin to imagine what it was like for ye. What ye must have been through and the things ye must have seen.”

“There is no need for me to tell you what was going on there, you know it. You saw the pictures and the recordings. And the Claire that was there doesn’t exist anymore – I had to strip everything away when the war was over or I wouldn’t have made it. That’s why I left for Boston and how I became friends with Joe. He was part of the American soldiers who freed the camp. Now you know everything and why I don’t wear short sleeve tops.”

“Even though ye’d look bonny in short sleeve tops, a nighean,” Jamie tried to lighten the moment and Claire laughed briefly before hugging him tighter. “Thank ye for bein’ so brave wi’ me, Claire. I ken it wasn’t easy for ye and I dinna take any of this lightly.” 

“I know you don’t,” She said and looked up at him, placing a kiss on his chest. “That’s why I felt I could tell you everything. But you have to keep your two promises, I don’t want pity.” 

“Ye have my word, Sassenach,” Jamie stroked her cheek with his thumb. “And ‘tis no’ pity I feel…’tis awe, Claire. I’m in awe of ye and of how strong ye are. Christ, Sassenach.“

“Anyone would have done what I did,” She shrugged, wiping her cheeks. 

“Nah, they wouldn’t have. Ye faced a verra difficult time, and not everyone could have done what ye did. I for one dinna think I could have done it,” He shivered. “I always admired ye, but now I know that you’re truly one of the most interesting, beautiful and brave people I’ve ever met… possibly that’s ever existed.” 

“You really are good with the flattery thing,” Claire smiled, almost amused at him. “But, thank you, Jamie. There’s no one I trust with this part of my life. At least not until today.” 

He bent his head and placed his lips to hers. Their first kiss since they had woken up. “Now, let me hold ye, Sassenach. Let me shield ye from pain and harm. I feel happiest when I have ye in my arms.” 

Claire let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and sank against him. Her ear was pressed to his chest and she could hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat – the most soothing sound, she realised. His hand softly trailed up and down her arm as he rested his head against hers.   
  
She didn’t wake up this morning thinking that she would tell Jamie about her past, but as she lay in his arms, feeling safe, she was glad she did. _So glad._

They lay there for a while, simply breathing and resting. At some point, Claire moved onto her side, pulling Jamie with her and fitted her leg between his. 

This morning it had been about discovery and passion, all those unspoken feelings coming to the surface. Now, Jamie held Claire tenderly in his arms, his eyes never leaving hers. They lay on their sides, fit together like a puzzle. Their hips rocked in slow motion, and Claire felt her emotions bubble to the surface. As she gave herself over to Jamie again, tears fell down her cheeks, the years of carefully building a wall around her heart crumbling away. Jamie leaned in, kissing them away and held her to him. There was no place she’d rather be. _No place she ever felt safer._

She had no words to put on what it was between them. _What they shared._ She was in no rush to find out, either. _Too afraid, perhaps._ But as long as he was willing to have her in his arms, she wouldn’t question it. 


	8. Unexpected Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday! Hope you enjoy this new chapter and thank you so much for reading <3

The next few weeks passed in relative normalcy, though, since Claire’s revelations about her past, something between the two had changed. _Shifted_. Their bond became stronger. And they shared a certain intimacy that Jamie had never experienced with anyone before. 

While he worked on his papers a,d prepared some things for his upcoming exams, Jamie spent his weekends at Claire’s house. He realised that no matter what they did whenever he was there, he wasn’t bored. Sometimes, he even watched her grade papers and found himself fascinated by her focused expression, round glasses on the tip of her nose. **  
**

His favourite sight, however, was Claire laying naked on her stomach, a book in hand and legs crossed in the air. That’s apparently how she liked to read while he was working on his own homework. 

“You’re never going to finish that thing if you keep watching me,” she said with an amused grin, not taking her eyes off the book she was reading. 

Jamie sat by her desk, chuckling, “I canna help myself, ye’re distractin’ me.” 

“Of course, it’s going to be my fault now?” She turned her head to look at him, still grinning. 

“Yer doin’ for sure, aye.” 

Claire grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him, her laugh echoing in the room. “If you fail this course, don’t blame it on me, all right?” 

“What? So, I canna tell the Dean that I didna pass my exams because I was starin’ at Professor Beauchamp’s bare, plump and round arse? That’s not an acceptable reason?” Jamie laughed and tossed his book on the table. _He wasn’t actually reading it anyways._

Claire snickered and bit her bottom lip. She gave a gentle pat to the spot beside her, and Jamie came and filled it, lying on his back. 

“I dinna ken how I will ever get any studyin’ done,” Jamie sighed and moved his hand over Claire’s back, his fingers pressing over the dimples at the bottom of her spine. “I dinna particularly want to, either.” 

“If you read for thirty minutes,” Claire rested her head on her folded hands, “I will reward you… very well.” 

“What kind of reward?” Jamie perked up, suddenly feeling the need to read. 

Claire’s brow arched, and she smirked. “You’ll have to read to find out, now won’t you?”

A promise of any kind of reward coming from Claire was all it took for Jamie to return to his chair in the corner of the room and pick up his book. Of course, this time, he had to face the opposite direction so that he wasn’t distracted by Claire’s derriere. 

After reading five pages in his history textbook, Jamie asked, “How long has it been?” 

“Do you really want to know?” Claire looked over her shoulder at him. 

“Aye,” Jamie nodded, waiting for an answer. 

“It’s been twenty-three minutes,” Claire remarked as she checked her bedside clock. “Only seven more to find out what your reward is.” 

“Christ!” Jamie began to laugh. “I’ve only read five pages in all that time.” 

“Might your mind be on something else, lad?” Claire giggled mischievously and rolled over onto her back. 

“Yer temptation itself, Sassenach,” Jamie nearly whined like a puppy begging for its toy. 

“I don’t understand why you find reading so difficult? I’m almost finished with the book I started when you started yours!” 

“Well, I’m sure if I had my clothes off too, ye wouldna be makin’ so much progress.” Jamie shot her the dirtiest look he could manage but ended up dissolving in laughter. 

“You think very highly of yourself,” Claire stated, smirking. “I don’t like you for your looks, but your big… brain, so get back to the books and I promise your reward will be worth it.” 

“Surely it’s been seven minutes since I asked how much time had passed?” Jamie flipped a page absently. 

“I paused the time when you asked, so the seven minutes officially starts now,” Claire laughed almost evilly. What she didn’t expect was for a giant scot to come and pounce on top of her. 

Jamie’s hands dug into her side, tickling her into hysterics. She twisted and kicked out her legs underneath him, and only stopped moving when Jamie pressed his lips to hers. 

“I think it’s been seven minutes,” he said, his voice deep with lust. “And I want my reward.” 

“No,” Claire laughed and then immediately hiccupped. “You cheated on the time, so you don’t deserve anything.” 

“You don’t want to give me my reward?” Jamie asked, and pressed his underwear-clad crotch against her. 

“Who said anything about your reward being sexual in nature?” Claire asked, but meanwhile, she was arching her back off the bed. 

Jamie slid one hand down her arm and took hold of her hand, bringing it to rest on the prominent bulge in his briefs. Her amber eyes darkened instantly, and she caught on quickly, moving her fingers to the waistband. 

“I was going to be on top,” she said softly before things could continue. 

“Were ye?” Jamie asked, and then rolled them over so that she was straddling him. The scot fully expected Claire to push his underwear down and slid onto his cock, something he would have been more than okay with. But she leaned down and kissed him briefly before continuing to place kisses along his chest. 

When she placed a sloppy kiss to his v-line, Jamie’s cock twitched on its own volition. Her slim hands were clutching his thighs, feeling the wiry hairs. Jamie laid there, shocked at what Claire seemed to be doing. He had dreamed of her doing exactly what he hoped she was really about to do. 

“Sassenach?” Jamie asked, leaning upon his elbows to get a better look as she started to pull down his underwear. 

“Hmmm?” She replied, her attention focused on the task at hand. 

“Try no’ to give me a heart attack, aye?” He pleaded and then took a deep breath as she pulled off his briefs and tossed them to the floor. His cock was nearly fully erect, resting on his stomach. 

“No promises, lad,” Claire whispered and then took a firm hold of him. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft and she began to move her hand up and down, knuckles brushing against his balls every so often. 

Jamie’s head fell back momentarily as he succumbed to her ministrations. But then, she made a sound – one Jamie had never heard her make before – and his head shot up, watching her. Claire was on her knees, one hand on his thigh and the other moving on his cock. She glanced at him through thick lashes before she descended on him, mouth open. 

“Ah Dhia,” Jamie’s hips jerked off the bed, trying to restrain himself from hurting her.

With her bum high in the air, Claire began to suck harder on his cock. It took all of Jamie’s strength to not thrust up into her mouth. Instead, he slid one hand into her curls and helped her bob her head. Over the past few weeks, his stamina had grown tremendously, but he knew he was close and he couldn’t hold it off much longer. 

Claire came up for air, and her spit on his cock made the air feel cold. As she placed her flattened tongue back on him, she met his eye, making sure he was watching her. She pushed further than she’d gone earlier, and made a slight gagging sound, but didn’t stop. Jamie’s thighs clenched and he twisted his hand into the bedsheets. He wanted to keep watching her, but his orgasm overcame him and he spilt his seed down her throat. 

All his breath had been knocked out of him, and Jamie lay flat on his back. He could feel Claire’s mouth still on him and then her tongue flicked out against the head before she reappeared next to him. He moved one arm around her and pulled her close. 

“Satisfied?” She asked and then kissed him. He tasted himself on her lips for the first time, strange, but not altogether bad. 

“Beyond,” he rasped, still very much in shock. “If that’s what happens every time I read my book, then I’ll be the most well-read student at Oxford.” 

Claire swiped at his head, hitting his forehead before laughing and laying her head on his chest. “That won’t happen every time. But if it’s what gives you incentive… I’m happy to please.” 

_“Tha mi ‘n dùil sgàin mo chridhe,”_ Jamie muttered. 

“If that meant _‘I’m going to go home and actually study now’_ , indeed you are, lad.” Claire pecked his toned chest and smiled against it. 

“Are ye throwin’ me out, Sassenach?” He pouted, looking down at her. 

“I’d keep you here forever but I think you need to study, Jamie. And soon enough you’ll have a week off.” She moved up and kissed his cheek. 

“Ye’re right. Ye always are,” he sighed, looking at her. “I’ll go but dinna think it’s because I want to, aye?” 

“I won’t.” Smiling, she got up and grabbed her robe before putting it on quickly. She turned around again and caught him staring at her. 

“Jamie!” she laughed. 

“What?” He grinned, sitting up. “I might as well while I’m still here.”

“I truly don’t understand your fascination with me,” she shook her head of curls, crossing her arms. 

“It’s no’ verra complicated,” he said nonchalantly, getting up in turn. “Ye’re just extremely bewichin’ and I ken I’m no’ the only one thinking that.” 

“You’ll say that again when my boobs and butt are going to start heading for the floor,” she threw his shirt at him, grinning. 

“Ye dinna look at day over twenty-five, Sassenach. And before ye say anything, yes I’ve seen yer pictures and ye havena change one bit.” He got dressed slowly, he wasn’t in a rush to get out of here. 

Claire came closer to him and started to button the last of his shirt, pulling on it to bring him closer. She kissed him tenderly and whispered against his lips,“Go study now before I change my mind.”

“I dinna think I would mind that verra much.” Jamie smiled innocently, not able to prevent the mischievous grin forming on his lips. 

“I know you wouldn’t.” Claire kissed him again before grabbing a cigarette and putting it between her lips. 

“Sassenach?” He watcher her. “Can I try one of those, sometimes?” 

Looking at him, she finished lighting it and blew out some smoke, “No, you can’t. That’s not good for you, my lad. Now, are you done trying to gain more time before leaving?” 

He couldn’t help but laugh, kissing her cheek, “Ye ken me so well, already. It’s no’ funny.” 

She grinned, kissing his lips. “Just go, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“I’m bringing the croissants in the morning,” he whispered against her lips and reluctantly pulled away from her. He gathered his things and left her house. 

Jamie knew she was right _– she always was –_ but it didn’t make his leaving any better. He loved being at her house, just observing her. _Learning from her._ They did the most mundane things and yet, he couldn’t get enough of her. 

At school, whenever they walked past one another, Claire only gave him a little smile or a nod and hurried on to her next class or her office. And he knew she only did it because if words came out that she was seeing a student, she’d lose her job immediately. 

_He wouldn’t forgive himself if that ever happened._

Thankfully, no one knew nor suspected anything about them and whenever he went to her house, he made sure no one saw him.

After studying for a few hours, his brain was fried and he briefly considered calling her home to invite her for dinner at the pub but he refrained. She was either in a bath, at this hour. Or maybe she had been called at the hospital. 

He was about to make himself a sandwich when the doorbell of his flat echoed in the hall. Since none of his roommates was there, he had no choice but to get up from the desk and go open. He knew Claire wouldn’t show up here but even then, his heart started to pound in his chest as he approached the door. His hand even shook slightly when he reached for the handle and opened it. 

Much to his surprise, it wasn’t Claire. But whoever was behind the door managed to bring a smile on his face. “A Dhia, Jane!” 

“Surprise!” The woman grinned, throwing herself at him and hugging him tightly. 

_Jane McAllister._ Jamie’s former babysitter, a longtime family friend and his first-ever crush as a young lad, fascinated by the teenager she had been. She was a fellow history lover _– and professor._ She had been working in Edinburgh for a while, after studying at Oxford too, a few years back. 

“What are ye doin’ here?” He smiled, looking at her. 

“Well, I got here this afternoon because I had an appointment with the Dean and you’re lookin’ at the new head of the history department,” She grinned proudly. “I’ll be moving here after the fall holidays!” 

“Have ye eaten already? Because if no’, I must invite ye for a celebratory dinner! Or drinks would do too, I guess,” he chuckled. “That’s such great news! There are no’ enough scots in this city and I’m glad to be able to see a familiar face more often.” 

“I didn’t have dinner, no. I was actually goin’ to ask you out for that, _a leannan._ ” 

“Let me grab my wallet and we’ll be on our way,” he smiled, already away in the living room to grab his things. 

**********

“How have you been?” Jane asked as they made their way towards a little restaurant a few blocks away. 

“Verra good, aye.” He said sincerely, smiling. “Just busy wi’ classes and all but I canna complain, it’s goin’ well. Now even better since I’ll have ye as my teacher.” 

“I’m going to need an assistant, you know,” she smiled, entwining their arms as they walked closely together. Jamie would have been fifteen years old right now, he’d be in heaven. 

“Are ye already askin’ me to work for ye?” He looked at her, grinning. “Some things never change, eh?” 

“Well, I know how much you love history and how much you want to teach. You’re the perfect candidate!” 

“I mean, aye, I’d love to do it,” he smiled, feeling her hand rest on his. 

“And I’m goin’ to need a guide! I ken I lived here when I studied but it’s been ten years now, some things have changed.” 

“Aye, dinna fash. I’ve got ye,” he winked – his attempt a fail.   
  
Jamie couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over Claire’s house as they walked by. He noticed the lights were off and wondered if she had already gone to be or if she simply wasn’t home. It was only 8pm, after all. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but smile, imagining her asleep. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t really listen to what Jane was saying. Nor the fact that Claire was walking towards them, from the opposite direction. Brown paper bags from the grocery store in hands. 

_Up until he caught sight of her and almost stopped in his tracks._

“You’re not listening to me, again!” Jane laughed, kissing his cheek. 

“Uhm, sorry what were ye sayin’?” He briefly looked at her before turning back to Claire whose eyebrows were raised not in question but in annoyance. Or worse, actually. _She looked very angry._ And Jamie quickly realised it was probably because of Jane. 

“P-professor Beauchamp…Good evenin’,” He said when she approached. If Jane was about to become her colleague, he couldn’t risk her knowing about them. Not that he didn’t want to shout it from the roof. 

“Jamie,” she smiled politely, forcing it. Her glance went from him to Jane, waiting for an introduction. 

“This is Jane McAllister,” he quickly explained, letting go of Jane’s arm. “She is an old friend from Scotland and uh she just got named head of the history department –”

“Oh did she?” Claire nodded her head, not even trying to faint interest. “I didn’t know you mingled with the teachers, Fraser.” 

He blinked, looking from Claire to Jane a few times. 

Before he had time to add anything, Claire cleared her throat, “Well, I guess I’ll see you both around campus soon enough. Enjoy your evening.”

“Oh aye, we will,” Jane smirked, looking at Jamie who tried to hide the fact that he was mortified. 

Claire shot him one last look and without another word, walked away from the pair and towards her house. 

“And who might that be?” Jane asked, turning around to look at Claire receding away. 

“Professor Beauchamp…she’s the head of the medical department and a brilliant surgeon.” 

“Are all the teachers’ snobs like that one?” She chuckled, looking at him. “It looks like she needs a good shag.” 

“She’s usually verra friendly, I guess she’s just tired,” he tried to avoid the subject and put his hands in his pockets. All he wanted to do right now was run to Claire to explain the situation. 

“Either that or someone’s not happy she canna have a piece of that,” Jane nudged him, taking his arm again. “Nevermind, let’s go. I’m starvin!” 

All throughout dinner, Jamie’s mind was only occupied by Claire. He was fidgety and anxious but he couldn’t leave Jane to go to her house and explain himself – even if that’s all he wanted to do. He was also terrified of what he would find once he’d get to Claire’s. 

He didn’t think of Jane that way, anymore. And even when he did, he had been a teenager crushing on his babysitter. Nothing would have ever happened between the two. Also, he knew Jane didn’t like him that way. She never did. _At least, he didn’t think so._


	9. Office Apropos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for the lovely feedback on the previous chapters, folks. We quite still can’t believe how much you love this story and it makes us so happy! 
> 
> Enjoy this one and see you on Thursday for the next <3

The dinner had lasted far longer than Jamie had hoped _\-- or wanted it to._

Worse, Jane had insisted on him giving a tour of his flat and sharing a dram of whisky, afterwards. Then, he walked her back to her hotel and finally wished her goodnight. 

After that, Jamie walked up and down Claire’s street for long minutes, unsure of what to do. _Panicked. Nervous._ He had to see her, of course, he did. But he was terrified. He knew to wait all this time probably made things far worse. 

Taking a long breath, Jamie finally walked towards her front door and rang the doorbell. _His heart in his throat._ Nothing happened for a few moments, not that he was surprised given the late hours. But then he heard footsteps inside and his heartbeat increased. 

The door cracked slightly and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. 

“Claire, please let me explain,” he nearly exploded before she had the chance to open the door completely. He had thought of what he would say for hours. 

She opened the door more to reveal her in that nightgown Jamie loved so much. Her head rested on the door frame, but she wasn’t about to let him in. He tried to read her expression and his heart broke at the hurt floating in her whisky eyes. 

“Yes, please explain what you were doing walking arm in arm with another woman and letting her kiss your cheek on multiple occasions during a very short time span,” Claire said bitterly. 

“As I told ye, she is a family friend.” He assured her, running his hand on the back of his neck. 

“Obviously nothin’ more. I’ve kent her since I was a young lad, and I was just as surprised to see her here tonight as ye were!” 

“What did take you so long to show up here?” Her eyebrows raised in question. Her impatience growing by the second. 

“I couldn’t tell her I had to go and talk wi’ ye, Claire. She is goin’ to work at the university, I dinna want to risk her knowin’ what’s goin’ on between the two of us and for ye to lose yer work over it. I had to wait for her to leave to come here or I would have come earlier, ye ken it.” 

Claire sighed and ran her hand back through her curls. “So, she was your nanny or something of that sort?”

“Aye. When my mam had to work on weekends she came and look after my brother and me when we were bairns. She’s stayed close wi’ the family all our lives,” Jamie shrugged, looking at her. 

“Trust me, any infatuation I had wi’ Jane died when I grew up.” 

“I suppose I’ll have to be cordial with her since she’ll be my colleague soon,” Claire crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe I can convince her to tell me embarrassing stories of you when you were little.” 

“So, does that mean I’m forgiven?” He prayed that it would be the case. 

Claire looked him up and down, seeing his pleading eyes, and nodded. “Yes, forgiven. But, the next time I see you with a woman over… thirty!” Her lip flicked up into a teasing smile. 

“I’m not letting you back into my bed.” 

“What about my mother?” Jamie asked innocently and took a step forward, smiling as Claire let the door open for him. 

“I’ll make an exception,” Claire smiled. “But no one else.” 

“I think you’re jealous, Sassenach,” Jamie said matter of factly as he shut the door behind him. 

Claire laughed then, and it filled the hallway. “Me? Jealous? You wish, lad.” 

“Aye, jealous.” Jamie slid one arm loosely around her waist, pulling her closer. “Ye saw me wi’ another woman, and ye thought I abandoned ye.” 

She rolled her eyes and hooked both arms around his neck. “I was not jealous,” she mumbled, though she totally was. “Caught off guard is more like it. I thought you were home studying.” 

“I was,” he kissed the tip of her nose. “And I would have kept doin’ so if Jane didn’t show up out of the blue.” 

“Fine,” Claire sighed, stroking his cheek. “I hope you know I trust you, Jamie. Don’t cause me to regret it, alright?” 

Nodding, he looked into her eyes and felt a slight pinch to his heart. The idea of hurting her. _Of causing her any pain._ After how much she had trusted him with not only herself but her secrets. He vowed to never hurt her. “I promise ye, Sassenach. Ye willna regret it. Ever.” 

Jamie leaned down and sealed their lips for a long time. Like a silent guarantee of his promise. His arms tightened around her waist and held her close. 

“You are aware of the way she was looking at you, right?” Claire asked, tilting her head to the side. 

He frowned, looking at her, “What do ye mean? How was she lookin’ at me?” 

“Oh please,” she rolled her eyes, though amused at his naiveté. “ She was looking at you like she wants to do to you what I get to do to you.” 

“That would be verra naughty of her,” Jamie chuckled, one side of his lip turning up. 

“What? Do you suddenly have a babysitting fetish?” Claire swatted his shoulder playfully. 

“Why? Are ye suddenly thinking about roleplayin’?” He laughed and then laughed harder when Claire rolled her eyes and her face turned bright red. 

“When I tell you I want to roleplay, you’ll know,” she stuck her finger against his chest, kissing his lips. 

“Alright,” Jamie grinned. “I admit I might have some idea of the way she was lookin’ at me, but I promise ye I will thwart off all advances she makes towards me.” 

“Well suit yourself, it’s not like I’m your wife after all. Plus, something tells me she isn’t going to let go of you that easily,” she patted his arm. 

Hearing the word ‘wife’ come out of Claire’s mouth did something to Jamie he didn’t want to admit. His heart pounded and his throat tightened. _If she would have him…_

“Well, I’m no goin’ to let go of ye so easily either,” Jamie slid his hands to settle on her waist again. “I’m verra sorry about Jane. Truly, I am, Sassenach.” 

“It’s all right.” Claire rested her forehead against his. “But you should let her know I’m actually very well shagged. Though, I appreciate her concerns.” 

“Are ye?” He grinned, bringing her hand to his lips. To say he was flattered was an understatement. 

“And I’m not a snob.” She added matter of factly, ignoring his question. 

“I think Jane’s just intimidated by ye, Sassenach. I canna blame her, ye’re a verra intimidating woman.” 

“Good,” Claire smiled softly. “If that’s the only way I can keep all the lassies from getting their claws hooked into you, it works for me.” 

“The only claws I want to be hooked into me are yers, Sassenach,” he stroked her hair back, smiling. He wanted to tell her so badly how much she meant to him. _How much he loved her._ But before he had the time to mutter those three little words, she talked first. 

“Let’s go to bed.” Claire smiled, kissing the tip of his nose. 

“To bed or to sleep?” His lip flicked up into a mischievous grin. 

“To sleep. It’s rather late, not that it’s my fault.” She chuckled, walking up the stairs. “Don’t think I forgot you have early classes tomorrow, my darling.” 

***********

It wasn’t unusual for Claire to be disturbed in her office. Either by a fellow professor or some of her students wanting clarification on some of the homework she had assigned. What was unusual was for the Dean to ask her to come by his office in the early afternoon, on a day when she was supposed to be done with classes by lunchtime. 

So when she knocked on the door, she expected to see the Dean. What she wasn’t expecting was Jane McAllister standing by him, looking just as surprised to see her. 

“Doctor Beauchamp!” Dean Hadfields smiled, “Thank you for your time --”

“It’s quite alright,” she smiled politely, hiding her displeasure as much as possible. “What can I do for you?” 

“May I introduce to you Miss McAllister,” he turned to look at Jane, smiling broadly. “She will be joining our team after the break as the new head of the history department.”

“Oh, Peter is leaving us? How unfortunate.” She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe and pouted. “He is such a great fellow!” 

“I’m afraid Harvard is stealing him from us,” the dean chuckled. “I can’t blame him, really. Anyway, I thought you could give Jane a tour of the campus? She’s an alumnus but I think it would be good to show her the teachers quarter and such things.”

“Now?” Claire raised her eyebrows. 

“Well, if you’re not busy, of course,” the dean smiled with a hint of curiosity in his eyes. He turned to Jane. “You see, Doctor Beauchamp splits her time between our campus and the Royal Brompton hospital in London. She’s a brilliant cardiologist that we are grateful gives some of her precious time to come here and pass her knowledge to the student.” 

“Impressive,” Jane mumbled, smiling. 

Claire looked over at Jane who maintained a rather stale expression after her less than enthusiastic response. “I guess I can make some time. Unless I get called in for surgery but I’m sure it should be fine and won’t take too long.”

“Splendid!” Dean Hadfields clasped her hand and patted it. “I’ll leave you both to it, I’m sure you ladies will have rather a lot to talk about!”

“I’m sure,” Claire gave him another fake smile, one to which he was completely oblivious to and walked out of his office, quickly followed by Jane. 

The two women started to walk down the hall, and Claire was hoping to keep this brief _\-- she didn’t want to talk to Jane any longer than she must_. It was clear by the other woman’s quiet demeanour and awkward glances that she wasn’t too pleased about this arrangement either. She promised Jamie she would be cordial and that was about as much as she would do. 

“So, how long have ye been teachin’ here, Dr. Beauchamp?” Jane asked as they turned a corner to head toward the history department. 

“Coming up on five years,” Claire said, looking around. “I started full time, but quickly switched to part-time so that I can perform surgeries throughout the week.” 

“Impressive,” Jane mumbled, her eyes on her. 

“Yes, I believe you’ve already said that,” Claire remarked, not looking at her. 

Patting herself mentally on the back for that comment, Claire opened a door to the right which happened to be one of the professor’s lounges. 

“This is where you can get your daily dose of coffee and relax for a bit,” she waved her hand around unenthusiastically. To busy herself, she grabbed her cigarette case from her pocket and lit one up. 

“You smoke?” Jane asked and Claire glared at her before smiling and puffing out smoke in her general direction. 

“It’s a nasty habit I’m afraid I picked up after the war,” she started walking back down the hallway. Jane’s own heels clicked behind her and she had to run a little to catch up. They continued the tour, peeking into rooms and a few more questions were shared between them. 

When Claire reached her office, she showed Jane who looked around, a small smile on her lips. 

“Thank you for showing me around, Dr. Beauchamp. I ken that we may not have gotten off on the best foot the other night, but I hope that we can get along while we work together,” Jane said. “Jamie Fraser told me that he thinks verra highly of ye, so then I do as well. A friend of Jamie is a friend of mine.” 

Claire was a bit taken aback at hearing Jamie’s name on her lips. She trusted Jamie and Jamie told her not to worry about the fellow scot so she wouldn’t. Yet, something about Jane unsettled her slightly. 

“I hope so too. And please, call me Claire,” she smiled politely and stretched out her hand and Jane took it, shaking it firmly. 

She looked down at Claire’s hand, noticing her thin gold band on her ring finger. She seemed to relax at the sight, which didn’t settle Claire’s feeling at all. She must believe her to be married and hence not to be interested in Jamie, she was sure of it. 

“Well, I better get back to Dean Hadfields,” Jane said. “I’m sure I’ll see you around, Claire.” 

“If you see Jamie around, give him my regards,” Claire smirked. 

Jane blinked, not quite expecting that. “I’ll make sure of it. I guess I’ll be seeing some more of him before I start my position.” 

“Don’t be so sure, he seems to be quite the busy student.” Claire was growing impatient, hoping she would leave. 

“He’ll make time for an old friend.” 

“You seem rather confident in that matter,” Claire would have to make sure Jamie was very busy with her instead and she knew a few ways of making that happen. 

Jane said goodbye and left the professor on her own in her office. Finally alone, Claire sighed and leaned against her closed door. A moment later, a knock came from the other side and she thought it must be Jane who had forgot to tell her something. 

She took a deep breath to face her, and opened the door. To her complete surprise, it was Jamie, looking dashing as ever in dark brown trousers and a button-up light blue shirt. 

“Can I come in?” He asked and Claire pulled him inside quick lest someone see. 

Claire kissed him against the door as soon as it shut, sliding her hands into his hair. 

“I’m happy to see you,” she smiled against his lips. 

“I’ll say,” Jamie chuckled. 

“Did you happen to pass anyone on your way here?” Claire asked, raising her eyebrows. 

“No, was I supposed to?” His brow flicked up. 

“Oh, no,” Claire pretended to wipe some dust off Jamie’s shoulder. “So, why do I have the pleasure of seeing you here today?”

“Well, I finished class earlier and I thought I would come in and say hello to my favourite professor,” Jamie rested his hands on her waist, his thumbs digging into her side. He started to walk them over to Claire’s desk. 

“Did you bring an apple for your favourite teacher?” Claire asked, and gasped a little as the backs of her legs hit the desk. 

“What do ye think?” Jamie whispered against the soft skin of her neck and took her hand. He slid it around to the front of his trousers where she felt his bulge. 

“Good God,” she breathed heavily. “Were you walking around campus in such a state?” 

“Och, nah,” he chuckled and lifted her to sit on the edge of the desk. “It happens verra quickly when I’m around ye is all.” 

“Well, surely that must be a world record,” Claire teased him, all while spreading her legs wide on the desk. She started to lean back, but Jamie stopped her and reached behind her to push off what few items were on the desk. 

“You’ll have to clean that up!” Claire laughed, lying flat on her back. 

“Aye, I plan on it,” he grinned. “But first --” 

One of his hands took hold of her legs and lifted it into the air. He took off her heel, letting it hit the floor with a thud. Then he ran his hands up her skirt, and closed them around her thigh. With nimble fingers, Jamie pulled down her stocking, watching as more of Claire’s smooth skin was revealed. He repeated the same actions on the other leg and then slid both hands under her skirt once more, this time coming back with her panties. 

“You know I don’t have a lock on this door,” Claire bit her lip, glancing over to said door. “You’ll have to be rather quick about it.”

“I aim to please, Professor,” Jamie unzipped his trousers and released his hard length. Claire’s mouth watered at the sight, and her knees tingled, remembering what it felt like to be on them, sucking him. 

The desk was hard and cold underneath her, a contrast to the warmth she was feeling between her legs as Jamie pressed fully into her. She gasped and wrapped both legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He stood above her, and his hands took hold of her hips and he began to thrust. 

Claire started to moan, but her mouth was quickly covered by Jamie’s hand. 

“Shhh, Sassenach,” he laughed and then winced as Claire bit down gently on the pad of flesh. 

Pressing her hips upwards to meet his every thrust, Claire did her best to stay quiet, but it was nearly impossible. Knowing that at any moment someone could walk in was terrifying yet also exhilarating. 

With one hand pressed firmly on Jamie’s arse, Claire came hard and fast, her back arching off the desk. Jamie grunted and spilt into her, his top half folding over her. She felt a sharp pain in her side, and she reached under her to pull out a stapler. 

“Shit,” she laughed and held it up. “I didn’t even feel that earlier.” 

Jamie leaned up and looked at the object in her hand. “Then I did my job well, mo nighean donn.” 

“Listen to you,” she grinned, putting the stapler away. “Still afraid not to be a good lover, Fraser? Because if so, you shouldn’t be.” 

“I’m learnin’ from the best,” he smiled, kissing her lips. Jamie stood up and pulled her to sit up on the desk. 

She chuckled, stroking his cheek. “I wanted to ask you something. Well, it’s not really a question, I guess.”

“What is it, Sassenach?” He frowned, suddenly growing worried. 

“We’re going to Paris for the autumn’s break.” 

“Paris?” His eyes widened. “Ye wanna go to Paris...wi’ me?” 

“Well I had it booked and the bed is for two people anyway so I thought...” She smiled, biting her bottom lip. “Unless you have other plans, of course. I don’t want to assume -- ” 

“Christ, what else would I want to do apart from goin’ to Paris wi’ ye, uh?” Jamie smiled widely, still quite shocked at their sudden plan. 

“Good,” Claire leaned up and kissed the tip of his nose. “Will it be your first time going?”

“Aye,” he nodded, smiling. “Ye’ll have to show me all the best cafes and bookshops.” 

_“Compte sur moi,_ ” Claire said in an impeccable french, stroking his toned arm. 

“Ye speak french,” he sighed happily, looking at her. “Of course ye speak french.” 

Claire’s laugh echoed in her office, “I’ll teach you some, don’t worry. Now let’s get dressed before someone walks in on us.” 

“We wouldn’t want that,” Jamie laughed and pulled Claire up to her feet, holding up both her stockings with a cheeky smile.


	10. Paname

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
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_Paris_

Jamie had spent most of his teenage years being fascinated by such a place. _Dreaming about it._ He had read about it in countless books, saw photographs and movies. But the moment he stepped foot in the city of lights, he realised nothing he had ever seen did it justice. He had tried to tame his excitement during their flight and Claire had been too busy grading papers to notice how fidgety he was anyway, but he had never felt so excited to be anywhere like he was right now. 

And knowing she was his travel companion made everything even more exciting. 

For the past few weeks, they had barely seen one another as the exams rolled in _\-- keeping them both pretty occupied._ Now it was just the two of them for the next week, free to roam Paris without any fear of anyone from the university spotting them. _Free to laze around in bed and eat croissants._ Free to visit countless museums and stroll hand in hand at the _Tuileries_. 

Claire had booked a little hotel in Montmartre, _nothing too fancy_ , she had said. Jamie chuckled when he saw the room -- though it wasn’t that big, it was fancy. And the view from the balcony over the Parisian rooftops took his breath away. 

“I say we move here,” Jamie said as he stretched his arms along the iron fence on the balcony. “I can quit school and ye can find a hospital here. Scotland is beautiful aye, but this --” 

“You are not quitting school a few months away from graduating,” Claire smirked and slid her arms around Jamie’s waist, leaning over to look around him at their view. “But it is indeed beautiful. Paris has been one of my favourite cities since I visited for the first time.”

“How many times have ye been?” He asked and turned slightly to slide one arm around her shoulders. 

“Too many to count. The first was before the war, on my honeymoon with Elliot,” she smiled fondly, obviously remembering that time. 

Jamie bit the inside of his cheek at the mention of her deceased husband. He knew it was wrong to be jealous of a dead man and yet...he couldn’t help himself. She had married him, after all. She was ready to spend the rest of her life with this man, that was how much she had loved him. 

Claire must have noticed how his body tensed under her hands and tapped her fingers under his chin. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like it when I talk about him.” 

“That makes me sound like a horrible person,” Jamie frowned. “To be so displeased when ye talk of yer husband.” 

“I won’t hide the love I had for him,” Claire said and leaned against the railing. “But I will try not to bring him up all the time. Old habits die hard, I suppose.” 

“Ah, Sassenach,” Jamie cupped her cheek. “Ye dinna have to restrain yerself on my account. ‘Tis just that if he were still alive, ye’d be wi’ him in Paris and no wi’ me.” 

“Is that what’s made you have this worry line on your forehead?” She smiled tenderly, smoothing her thumb over his skin. 

“While it’s true that if Elliot were still alive, I would probably be with him, the fact of the matter is that he’s gone and it’s you I’m with now. Because that’s what life decided.”

“And I’m verra grateful to be here wi’ ye,” Jamie kissed her gently. “I’ve never thanked a dead man, but I will say a prayer for Elliot tonight for givin’ me ye.” 

“You know...” she smiled, cupping his cheeks. “Before I left for France he told me that if anything ever happened to him, he’d make sure whoever would take care of me would be a good man. He never really broke a promise.” 

“Obviously, when he said that I told him to shut up because it wouldn’t happen,” she chuckled softly, a tear escaping her eye. 

Jamie kissed it away, holding her in his arms and smiled, “Aye, I can picture ye sayin’ that, Sassenach. Even more stubborn and hot-headed at nineteen than what ye are now.” 

“No, actually, it’s gotten worse with age.” She grinned, holding him tightly. The rumble of his laugh echoing against her. “You may have noticed that I don’t have many friends.” 

“It’s no’ about the number, Sassenach, but the quality of the relationships ye do have,” he said. 

“Listen to you,” she stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “It seems you are learning something at that school, after all.” 

“I’ve been learnin’ more since I started seein’ ye than I’ve learnt in two years at Oxford, Sassenach. My mam always told me to surround myself wi’ intelligent and cultivated people, she was right. Ye ken the best wines, the best books, the best movies. ‘Tis verra entertaining to be around ye all day and I’m never bored.” 

“You flatter me so.” She tried to joke but blushed, the sight not lost on him. He realised that his favourite thing to do was to make her break the shell she had carefully crafted around herself to keep other people from seeing she was strong, yes. But also vulnerable. 

“Your mother only said so because she didn’t think you’d end up bedding a professor twenty years older than you --”

Jamie interrupted her with a kiss and shook his head. “I ken my mam would love ye if ye two met, Sassenach.” 

“Mmh,” she answered, though not completely sold his option on the subject. 

“Everyone loves ye once they get over the intimidation,” he added, smirking.

“That is very reassuring,” she chuckled, pulling him back inside the room. “But I’m not to the point of meeting your mother yet, my darling.” 

“I want to bring ye to Lallybroch one day,” he smiled, sitting on the bed and pulled her onto his lap. “I want to show ye the Highlands and my second favourite place on earth.” 

“I’d love a private tour,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, rubbing her nose against his. 

“But what’s your favourite place before Lallybroch?” She frowned. 

“Yer bed,” he grinned, sealing their lips before she erupted into laughter. 

**********

“Dinna eat all the croissant, Sassenach,” he nudged her, grinning. 

They were walking along the _Seine_ , sun shining and reflecting on the peculiar Parisian buildings. People were reading books, an elderly woman sat on the bench feeding some birds, some children were running around following their mothers. This city was so different from Oxford and Jamie never wanted to leave. 

“You said you didn’t want one,” she smirked, taking another bite as she continued walking. 

“Weel, I changed my mind.” 

“That’s too bad, lad,” she said and took another large bite of the croissant. 

Jamie stopped walking and pouted, crossing his arms. 

Claire turned around, laughing. “Oh, come on!” 

“I just want a wee taste is all.” He whined like a little boy, the sight altogether melting Claire’s heart. 

Walking over to him, she stopped in front of him and took a piece of the croissant. She held it before his mouth. “Open up.” 

“That’s usually what I say to ye,” Jamie smirked before opening his mouth and Claire shoved the bite in, laughing at his comment. 

Nodding, he chewed enthusiastically, “Aye, ‘tis...how do you say? Très good.” 

_“Très bon,”_ she kept on laughing, starting to walk again. “Your French is horrendous.” 

“Oui,” he grinned and chewed, reaching for another piece and she handed him what was left. 

Claire took his free hand and smiled, entwining their fingers. “Do you want to go to Notre Dame now? Then we can walk up to see the Louvre. There’s also a bookstore near the cathedral I’d like to show you before that.” 

“Aye, sounds good to me, Sassenach.” Jamie smiled, bringing her hand to his lips. 

There was something different about Claire in Paris. Something less reserved. _Freer_. He didn't think he’d get tired of seeing her like this and it was an even more beautiful sight to witness. _Her laugh sounded sweeter. Her skin felt softer under his hands._ Jamie’s heart was beating harder for her than it ever had. 

They made their way towards Notre Dame, a place Jamie had always wanted to visit and he couldn’t help but look around. The city was fascinating to him but not as fascinating as Claire. 

The scot pressed his lips to Claire’s temple, smiling against her skin. As he turned his head, he saw a small man with a curly moustache with a thin pencil in his hand. Looking at the canvas to see what he was drawing, Jamie saw that he was capturing the likeness of a young woman sitting in front of him. 

“Tis quite good,” Jamie said to the man and he smiled, waving his hand in the air. 

“It rather is,” Claire agreed as she looked between the woman and the canvas with a smile. 

“Would you like a drawing?” The artist asked, looking up at Jamie and Claire. 

“What do ye say, Sassenach? It would be nice to have somethin’ to remember our wee trip by,” Jamie smiled, pushing back a curl behind her ear. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Claire shrugged, embarrassed at the attention. “My hair is a mess, and I wouldn’t want it immortalized in a picture.” 

“Oh no no, it’s a drawing! Not a picture, mademoiselle, I can make your hair any way you like!” The artist grinned and Claire was sold. “Let me finish this portrait of this beautiful woman and then you may sit for me.” 

Jamie slid his arm around Claire’s waist, his fingers brushing against bare skin where her shirt lifted up. She laid her head against his shoulder, her fingers lightly stroking his hand. A few minutes later, the artist called them over to sit in front of him. 

“Beautiful couple,” he smiled and began to sketch. “I can see the love in your eyes!” 

Claire chuckled and glanced over at Jamie whose face was turning red. 

“Ye ken this will be our first picture together, _a nighean_ ,” Jamie whispered down to her. 

“Oh really?” 

“Aye, I would prefer a real picture, but a drawing will suffice,” Jamie squeezed her knee with his hand. 

“You want a picture of me?” She asked and turned her head slightly to look at him. The artist was busy sketching, making short and long strokes. 

“I’ll look at it every day, Claire,” Jamie looked down and kissed her. “Your face is my heart, Sassenach.” 

“Oh, Jamie,” Claire blushed and kissed him. 

“I cannot draw when you kiss,” the artist remarked, grinning, making broke apart, laughing to themselves. 

For the remainder of the sitting, Claire and Jamie stayed silent, enjoying their surroundings and being close to one another. Finally, the drawing was done and the artist whose name was Pierre held it up for them to see.

“Oh, that is beautiful!” Claire exclaimed, and thanked the man for his wonderful portrait. “You did manage to make my hair appear tame.” 

“Aye, ye look _magnifique_ , Sassenach,” Jamie grinned and pulled out some coins to pay the man. He rolled it up and placed it in a small tube for them to take home. Jamie and Claire thanked the man once again and continued on the path through the city of love. 

**********

The next few days in Paris passed in a slow haze. Jamie and Claire spent their time either at their hotel or in the streets, visiting the countless wonders Paris had to offer. _Simply enjoying one another’s company_.   
  
Having Claire as a guide was unlike anything Jamie had ever hoped for when he thought about visiting this place. She knew the best restaurants and museums. She spoke French fluently and it seemed that the city had been made just for her to exist in. 

It was odd but he felt himself mature over the course of the past week. As if the boy he had been when he first arrived was finally turning into a man. One well educated about the world. And all of this was thanks to Claire. 

_His Sorcha_

He woke up on their last morning, lids still heavy with sleep given the early hours. The window was open, letting the sun cast a warm glow over Claire’s porcelain skin who was barely covered by the sheets. He watched her attentively, noticing the goosebumps on her skin as the wind blew inside the room. 

Jamie didn’t want to go back to Oxford, just yet. He didn’t want to go back to class and having to pretend he didn’t know her. He didn’t want to hide how much he loved her, anymore. Nor how happy she made him. But they had no other choice. At least not until he would graduate in June. _A few more months._

At least, his classes wouldn’t start for another few days once they’d be back in England and he was looking forward to some more quiet moments with Claire, inside the privacy of her home. 

Slowly, Claire opened her eyes and yawned. She looked just as lovely in the mornings, her curls a mess on the white pillow and her whisky eyes glazed by sleep. 

“Bonjour,” he whispered softly, stroking a curl away from her face. 

She smiled back, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Hello, my little croissant.” 

“Croissant?” Jamie laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. 

“Perhaps I’m hungry,” she remarked, licking her lips. 

“We still havena packed and the plane leaves in a few hours, Claire…”

“I know, that’s why we should order some breakfast before packing and then we can leave for the airport,” she grinned, kissing his cheek. 

“I don’t know what you believe me to have in mind?” 

“I actually have somethin’ in mind, Sassenach.” He moved slightly, wrapping her bare leg around his waist and stroked her skin. 

“We’ve got some more free days before the classes start...and I ken my mam isn’t at Lallybroch right now because she’s visitin’ my sister so what if I bring ye to Scotland? Ye showed me Paris, I want to show ye the Highlands.” 

“Well, it’s a lovely offer but are you sure your mother isn’t home? Because I don’t think introducing me right now would be too great. And we agreed to wait until after you graduate.” 

“She isna,” he assured her, kissing her lips. “Truly. She’s in Aberdeen and we would only be stayin’ for the weekend.”

“Fine, then.” She stroked his chin with her index finger, smiling. He had some scruff and he knew she liked it. “But only if you promise me something.”

“What, a nighean?” He frowned, his hands resting on her behind. 

“Don’t shave.” She instructed in a firm voice. He loved it when she was commanding. 

“I havena shaved since we got here.” He chuckled, patting her bum. 

“Exactly...and it adds to your charms.” Claire rubbed her nose against his, pulling him closer. “I like it.” 

“If that’s all ye need to be happy, Sassenach. I willna shave.” He rubbed his face into her neck and she moaned, loving the way it gently scratched her. “Are ye sure ye want to order breakfast just now?” He continued to rub his chin gently across her neck. 

“Hmmm?” Claire hummed, her eyelashes fluttering. 

Jamie chuckled, and slid his hand between their bodies, earning him another satisfied sound from Claire who curled her fingers into his hair. 

***********

_“Moon river, wider than a mile,_ ” Claire sang softly, leaning her head on Jamie’s shoulder in the cab. 

“Miss Paris already, huh?” Jamie asked. They had arrived in England last night and made the journey to Lallybroch, his home, starting early this morning. 

“Always,” Claire sighed. “But I’m happy to be here now, with you.” 

“I canna wait to show ye the Highlands. We can go to the stables and take a horse out and ride on our land!” Jamie said excitedly. 

“That sounds lovely,” Claire agreed. “I haven’t ridden a horse in ages!” 

Jamie looked out the window, filled with happiness at seeing his home country. It had been some time since he’d been back and while he wished his family was here, he was looking forward to having the whole place to himself. He turned to look at Claire who was also looking out the window, a fascinated look floating in her whisky eyes. 

He smiled, bringing her hand to his lips. His heart beaming to be here with her. 

“It’s as beautiful as you described it to me, Jamie.” She smiled, looking at him. 

“Aye, ‘tis. Though, ‘tis not the most beautiful sight in front of my eyes just now.” 

She nudged him, smiling shyly. “Stop it.” 

The car rolled to a stop in front of a large stone house. The sight of it was enough to bring tears to Jamie’s eyes. _Home_. And with Claire by his side, no less. 

They climbed out of the car, and he paid the cab driver, “Thank ye.”

He collected their bags and joined Claire in front of the house. She was staring at it, her arms folded across her chest. 

“It’s lovely, Jamie. A real home,” she smiled wistfully. “The kind of home I always wanted as a young girl.” 

“Well then, your home awaits ye, Sassenach,” Jamie offered her his free arm and she wrapped her hand on it and together they walked up the few steps to the door. Before he opened the door, Jamie looked down at Claire, his heart so full it could burst and he kissed her. 

The door opened and Jamie pressed it, letting Claire walk ahead of him. The smell was the same -- the warm scent of something being baked in the oven and woodsmoke. 

Dropping their luggage in the hall, he took her hand and led her towards the main living area. He couldn’t wait to spend the next few days here with her. Unbothered and in peace, away from everyone and everything. 

However, as they stepped through the wooden door of the living room, Jamie quickly realised he might have miscalculated his plans a little bit. _Or a lot._

“Mam.” He croaked out, letting go of Claire’s hand immediately. 


	11. Mommy Dearest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday! 
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> Thank you so much for reading and we hope you enjoy this chapter <3

Jamie stood still, panic creeping up his neck at the sight of his mother. She wasn’t supposed to be here. _He promised Claire she wouldn’t._ And now, he had to find some lies to tell. _Quickly._

“I didna ken ye’d be comin’ home,” Ellen walked over to them, a curious look on her face as she watched Claire, her eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“And no’ alone, at that.” 

‘Twas a last minute decision…” Jamie cleared his throat and looked at Claire. 

“Mam, this is...This is Claire Beauchamp. She’s a professor at Oxford and she’s been helpin’ me with a paper I have for my history course so I thought I’d bring her here to show her the Highlands. She always wished to.” 

_It wasn’t a complete lie but he couldn’t tell her the truth._ And Jamie was thankful his face had always been unreadable. Except, his mother knew when he was lying anyway. At least this time, she didn’t seem to comment on it. 

“Mrs. Beauchamp.” Ellen repeated, giving Claire a polite smile. “Nice to meet ye, then. Welcome to Lallybroch.” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Fraser.” Claire answered, smiling in turn. “And thank you for welcoming me into your home. It’s a lovely place from what I’ve seen so far.” 

“Aye, ‘tis bonny.” Ellen nodded, looking at Jamie. “How long will ye be stayin’ home?”

“Just for the weekend. Classes start back on Wednesday.” He managed a smile, ignoring the drop of sweat running down his neck. And the awkwardness settling in the room. 

“I thought ye were in Aberdeen,” he added, before cursing himself for it. 

“Och, nay. I was supposed to be but the bairns got chickenpox and since I never had it, I didn’t find it a good idea to go over there. But dinna trouble yerself for me, _a leannan_. I’m glad ye’re home for a couple of days.” She smiled, patting his arm. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

“And wi’ yer friend, as weel,” she looked at Claire. “‘Tis been a while we had anyone new here! I canna wait to hear everything about ye Mrs. Beauchamp.” 

“Oh please, call me Claire.” 

“Aye, of course. After all, we’re basically the same age.” Ellen said nonchalantly and Jamie’s jaw tightened. 

Claire had the urge to reach for Jamie’s hand, but that would be the wrong move. Instead, she smiled, trying her best to be polite. She could hold it together for the weekend. _At least, she hoped._

“We have a guest room that ye can stay in Claire,” Ellen said. “I’ll just have Mrs. Crook fetch some new sheets for ye. And I assume ye’ll be stayin’ in yer old room, Jamie?” 

“Aye, of course, I am,” he nodded, smiling. “I think I’ll just take Claire upstairs now and show her where she’ll be sleeping. We’ll come back down a bit later.” 

“It was lovely to meet you, Claire.” Ellen smiled and Claire saw the same all-knowing look in her eyes that she had seen in Jamie’s countless times. 

Jamie picked up their bags and led them upstairs past paintings that depicted small red-haired boys. Once they were sure they were out of sight, Jamie took her hand and squeezed it, waiting to speak until they were behind closed doors. 

“My room is just across the hall from the guest room, Sassenach. So ye can sneak across when my Mam goes to sleep,” he whispered, grinning. 

“Are you sure she won’t find out?” Claire asked. “I feel a bit wrong sneaking around.” 

“Well, I canna sleep wi’out ye by my side, if need be I’ll be the one sneakin’ around,” Jamie dropped the bag to the floor and cupped her cheek. “I ken this is no what we planned but please… promise me ye’ll come to my room if ye can?”

“Or what?” Claire smirked, wrapping her hands around his neck. 

“Or I’ll have to stand outside, throwin’ rocks at the window until ye answer me,” he grinned and kissed her. 

Suddenly, a light knock came from the door and they jumped, breaking apart. Mrs.Crook, their household maid, walked in holding fresh sheets for the bed. 

“Hello, my dear!” she smiled widely at Jamie and pinched his cheeks as she passed. “Tis good to see ye lad. I didna ken ye’d be comin’ home anytime soon.” 

“Neither did I,” Jamie shrugged and hugged her. 

“Thank you for the sheets,” Claire smiled. The other woman looked at her as if noticing her for the first time and smiled kindly back. 

“Yer welcome lass,” she winked and left them on their own once again. 

Jamie sat down on the bed, pulling Claire to sit on his lap. He leaned his forehead against hers and breathed her in. 

“I’m so sorry about this, Sassenach. I ken ye didna want to come if my family was here and when I saw my mam I panicked and lied...” 

“Don’t worry, I’m glad you didn’t tell her. I don’t want her to react badly about the news but It’s not exactly the way I imagined meeting your mother,” Claire sighed and ran her fingers over his cheek. 

“So, ye did imagine meetin’ my mother one day?” Jamie smiled at her words. 

“Well… yes,” she laughed softly and pushed the curls off his forehead. “One day, but certainly not now, not when --” she stopped, biting her lower lip. 

“Not when what?” Jamie asked, cupping her cheek. 

“Not when I’m still a professor at the university you attend and we haven’t discussed what it is between us,” Claire admitted, resting her forehead against his. 

“What it is between us...” Jamie said softly and took her hand, holding it between them. “It’s unlike anythin’ I’ve ever felt before, Sassenach. ‘Tis special, I ken it.” 

Claire moved one hand to touch the curls at the nape of his neck, and kissed him, parting his lips with her tongue. _It was special._

“We should go back downstairs,” she whispered against his lips, pulling away reluctantly. 

“Why?” Jamie nearly groaned, his lips still chasing hers. 

“Because your mother is probably wondering why it’s taking you so long to show me my room,” Claire tugged on his ear and stood up from his lap. 

***********

Claire had done a pretty good job of staying away from the house for the entire afternoon since they had arrived. While Jamie had been busy with tasks given by his mother, she explored the estate. Given his mother had been observing their every move since the morning, It was probably better this way since the didn’t know if he could control himself around her. 

At least like this, he had no reason to kiss her out of the blue while Ellen watched. Though, he decided to stop and check on Claire, standing behind the window of his bedroom. His eyes scanned the garden to find her _\-- which he did rather quickly._

The professor was carefully studying the different flowers decorating the garden while holding a little bouquet in her hand. He smiled, knowing how much she loved botany and made a mental note of buying her some books on the subject once they’d be back in Oxford. 

His eyes caught on something else. _Something familiar._ A mop of red hair belonging to none other than his older brother, William. _Willie_. 

Willie came up behind Claire and must have said something because she turned around, her hand flying over her heart like he’d scared her. Jamie watched all of this with a curious eye. Claire stuck out her hand, and Willie shook it, they were both smiling warmly. Feeling like he was missing out, Jamie decided to head downstairs and out to the garden. 

He was stopped in the back door by his brother who nearly ran into him. 

“Och, Jamie!” He grinned and gave him a big hug. “What are ye doin’ here, mate?”

“Home for the weekend,” Jamie muttered and tried to get out the door to see Claire, but Willie stopped him again and leaned in. 

“Did ye ken there was a beautiful lass in the garden?” His brother whistled. “I dinna think I’ve never seen an arse like the one she had.” 

Jamie shoved against his arm, “Dinna talk about her like that!” 

“Like what?” Willie held up his hands. “Who is she anyway?”

“No one to you,” Jamie muttered under his breath before pushing past him and walking outside into the sunlight. _Great_. Just what he needed was his older brother here to hit on Claire. It wasn’t enough to have his mother watching them like a hawk. 

Claire watched as he made his way to her and she smiled. “I just met your brother!” 

“Aye, I ken ye did,” he mumbled. “Ye should come inside and wash up Sassenach. Dinner will be ready soon.” 

“Oh good,” she smiled, looking around quickly to see if anyone was watching them. When Claire caught sight of Ellen on the terrace, she refrained the need to kiss him. 

“What’s on the menu?” she asked as they made their way back towards the house, keeping a fairly good distance between their bodies. 

“Roast Beef and mash wi’ greens. I hope ye like that?” He looked at her, opening the door for her. 

“Of course,” she smiled, walking into the house. “I’ll go put the flowers in some water and wash up before dinner, if that’s alright?”

“Aye, Sassenach,” Jamie smiled softly, squeezing her hand. 

Claire looked around again and quickly pressed her lips against him before disappearing up the stairs. She came down twenty minutes later to find the dining table already set and Jamie pouring some whisky into glasses. 

“Oh there ye are, Claire,” Ellen said from the end of the table. “I ken ye met Willie earlier, come and sit next to him.” 

Daring a glance at her lad, he gave her a nod and so Claire took her place next to Willie and in front of Ellen. 

“Thank you for preparing dinner, it smells delicious,” Claire complimented Ellen -- who was busy analysing her gold band with interest. Jamie took his seat at the other end of the table, too far for Claire’s liking. 

“Ye work at Oxford then, Claire?” Ellen asked, passing the vegetables to her eldest son. 

“Yes, I have for a few years now. Only part-time, however,” she added and took the plate from Willie. 

“She’s also a well-respected surgeon, but she doesna like to brag,” Jamie said and began to cut up the roast beef. 

“Interesting,” Ellen crossed her hands in front of her. “Willie is a doctor as well, a paediatrician. I dinna ken if Jamie told ye that.” 

“No, he didn’t actually,” Claire smiled and turned to Willie who was eyeing her. “It’s always a pleasure to meet a fellow lover of medicine. So I take it you’re slightly older than Jamie?”

“Aye.” Willie grinned. “Soon to be thirty.” 

Claire turned toward Ellen again, smiling. “Then I guess you and I aren’t the same age, after all. Unless you had Willie at ten years old.” 

Ellen took a sip of whisky, her jaw tightening. “Nay, I was slightly older than that when I had Willie.” 

“A surgeon, then?” Willie asked, leaning closer to Claire. “What field?” 

“Cardiology.” 

“T’is remarkable!” He smiled, raising his drink to her. “Doctor Beauchamp, if I had known ye earlier, I would have chosen another medical path just to be yer intern.” 

“I don’t take interns, I’m afraid. I just spend time in my surgery and whoever wants to come to watch is welcome but that’s about it. I don’t have time to train students.” 

“I should have gone to Oxford like Jamie when I decided to take up medicine.” He grinned, looking at his little brother who was internally seething. 

“Aye weel, ye dinna.” Jamie chimed in, eating. “Tis too late now.” 

“But now I have a reason to come and visit ye wee brother,” Willie smirked and winked at him out of Claire’s eyesight. 

“As if visiting yer only brother wasna reason enough,” Jamie stabbed his fork down rather hard. “Claire is busy, she doesna have time to meet wi’ people she barely kens.” 

“I’m sure she could find some time if you made the trip,” Ellen said and glared at Jamie. 

“Fine,” Jamie sighed and chewed his food. He had imagined romantic dinners with Claire all weekend, but instead, he had to make sure his brother didn’t try to steal her away from him. He was counting the hours until he could hold her in his arms. 

Dinner passed in silence on his part -- while Ellen and Willie did all the talking, interrogating Claire about every little detail of her job and life as a professor. He had never seen his mother nor his brother acting almost rudely toward anyone like this and he was boiling. That, plus the fact Willie was openly flirting with Claire in front of his eyes and she was too polite to say anything, let alone have Ellen suspect what was going on between the two of them. 

He prayed silently God would give him patience and make the hours go quicker so he could finally be sure she was away from his mother and his brother. Peaceful in her room where he’d sneak in for the rest of the night. 

Finally, Jamie found himself in pyjamas, laying on his bed and waiting for the house to go quiet. Thankfully, Willie had left soon after the desert to go back to his own place before he had to start a shift at work and Ellen never liked to go to bed very late. 

_So he waited._ Until he finally heard his mother close the door of the Laird’s bedroom down the hall. 

Slowly, Jamie got up, hoping the wood cracking under his feet wouldn’t wake her up and made his way towards the guest room Claire was occupying. He knocked softly and waited for an answer, looking around. 

The door opened to reveal Claire in her pink silk robe and she stood back to let him in. 

“Ye dressed verra sexy for a weekend wi’ my family, Mrs. Beauchamp,” Jamie joked and pulled her close once the door was shut. 

“I wanted to make sure I looked my best for when I go down to breakfast in the morning,” Claire kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “My hair freshly tousled from a night of lovemaking.” 

“I’m sure my mam would think ye snuck into Willie’s room for that,” he huffed and released her to Claire’s disappointment. 

“You know I wouldn’t do that though, Jamie. And he’s not even here.” Claire put both hands on her hips. “I’m sure that your mother has us figured out, she seems like a wise woman. She was probably just trying to get under your skin because we’re hiding it.” 

“She’d love nothin’ more than to catch me lyin’, but ye heard her, Sassenach,” Jamie sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “All those remarks about ye bein’ the same age. And God… Willie showin’ up and flirtin’ wi’ ye.” 

“He wasn’t flirting that much,” Claire said as she sat next to Jamie. He looked at her, his brows raised and she laughed quietly. 

“Okay, he was flirting with me a lot, but can you blame him?” She let one sleeve of her robe fall off her shoulder, followed by the strap of her gown. 

“Nah,” Jamie shook his head and leaned in to kiss her, but instead pushed her back to lay on the bed. “But he doesna get ye like I do. No one will because yer mine, Claire.” 

Grabbing her other strap, Jamie pulled down her nightgown to reveal her breasts. “All mine,” he said softly and ran his fingertips lightly over her nipples, making her squirm. 

“I’m the only one that can touch ye like this,” Jamie bent down, his head hovering over her nipple and then flicked his tongue out. “The only one that can ken what ye taste like.” 

Claire’s hands slid into his hair, pulling him to her other neglected breast, but Jamie placed kisses down her stomach, his hands pushing up the silk material to her navel. She sat up on her elbows and watched as he buried his face between her legs. 

“Good Lord,” she threw her head back, feeling the puff of his breath. Jamie stopped what he was doing and covered his hand over her mouth. 

“I’m the only one that can hear ye moan, Sassenach. Ye have to keep it down,” he chuckled and bent back to his task. He parted her legs, inhaling her scent as he did. Claire had replaced his hand and was covering her own mouth, trying to keep quiet. 

It proved difficult, however, when Jamie flattened his tongue and licked slowly up her center. He began to lick her folds, the lapping sounds filling the room. Claire was writhing underneath him, trying to ride his face, but he put one hand on her stomach to hold her down. 

“Shhh,” he mumbled against her before diving back in and flicking his tongue on her clit. It was so erotic, to watch her fall apart, and yet try and stay silent. Jamie loved knowing he was driving her wild and so he placed his hands on either side of her hips and lifted her bottom half slightly in the air. He slid one hand underneath her and began to lick her faster. Claire turned her head to the side, burying her face into the pillows as Jamie broke her down. 

One more leisurely lick was all it took for Claire to start shaking in his hands and he held her steady, gently letting her back down on the bed. She was breathing hard, her eyes closed and her hand reaching out for him. 

“Ye’re mine,” Jamie whispered as he moved up along her body. “All mine.” 

“ _Yours_.” She rasped between two breaths, holding his cheeks. 

***********

That morning when Jamie woke up, he was still very much in Claire’s bed. _And happy to be there._ Naked and barely covered by the sheet, a feeling of pure giddiness taking over him, like the first time he had found himself there. However as he turned around, his grasp empty, he realised she was already up. 

Yawning, he got up in turn and rubbed his eyes before grabbing his pyjamas from the chair. At least if one of them was already awake, Ellen wouldn’t be asking herself too many questions and hopefully, she wasn’t back on her interrogation of Claire at the breakfast table. 

Jamie made sure his mother wasn’t in the hall before coming out of the room that wasn’t his and made his way downstairs, smelling the scent of freshly grounded coffee and baked scones. He smiled, content with himself after the night he had spent and knowing they’d be back in Oxford soon enough. 

He walked into the kitchen, looking at his mother who was pouring coffee into cups and cleared his raspy throat. “Mornin’ mam.” 

“Och, mornin’, _a leannan_ ,” Ellen looked at him, smiling happily. She seemed in a better mood than she had been yesterday. 

“How did ye sleep?” She asked, turning back to continue her task. 

“Good,” he smiled happily. He might have not slept that much, he had slept very well. 

“I made scones for ye, I thought ye’d appreciate since ye aren’t home that much.” 

“Aye, thank ye,” he walked over to her and kissed her cheek. 

“Has Claire woken up yet?” He asked, pretending he didn’t already know the answer. 

“Claire? Oh, aye.” Ellen nodded, avoiding his eyes. “But I’m afraid Claire left for England, lad.” 

Jamie frowned, something sinking into the pit of his stomach. “What do ye mean she left?” 

“She mentioned some emergency…” His mother put the mugs on the table before opening the fridge to get some jam and cream. She wasn’t looking at him, avoiding his eyes, which was a pretty good indication she was lying about _why_ Claire wasn’t here. 

“Are ye sure she left?” He felt his heart started to race in his chest. He didn’t understand why Claire had gone like this and if it had been for some emergency at the hospital, she would have told him. _Of course, she would have._

“Aye.” Ellen finally looked at him, something different about her, like she had a shameful secret. 

“She’s gone.”


	12. Nothing Lasts Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another rare chapter in Claire’s POV with a flashback to what Ellen said to her before she left Scotland! Thank you so much for reading along and enjoy <3

_Claire had always been an early bird – even when she had been around Jamie’s age. So more often than not, she would wake up before him and spend a good chunk of time simply watching the scot, peacefully asleep next to her. It became a new habit._

_He always smiled tenderly in his sleep, something that was as endearing as it was sweet to witness. His breathing was cool and soothing, his chest rising up and down in a steady rhythm. In the short time they’d been together, this sound alone had become like a lullaby to her. Whenever she couldn’t fall asleep or when she woke from a nightmare, she listened to it and found herself rocked back to slumber like a pleasant haze wrapping itself around her. **  
**_

_This past week spent away from Oxford had put things into perspective for her. What had started as a simple crush and infatuation was turning into something else. Something more. Something she hadn’t faced since meeting Elliot all those years ago. At first, she thought it would be a simple fling but now, for the first time in years, Claire was feeling her heart opening up again._

_She didn’t want to prevent herself from falling for Jamie. She didn’t want to fight it._

_No matter what the little voice in her head was telling her, one look at Jamie was enough to erase most of her fears about their age gap in an instant._

_Softly, she placed a kiss on Jamie’s temple and got up. She quickly got dressed in a casual outfit – not to go downstairs in her robe – and pulled up her curls in a neat bun. She hoped Ellen wasn’t up yet and simply wanted to find some peace and quiet before the day would start and she’d have to lie about what she was to Jamie all over again._

_With another look to make sure that her scot was very much asleep, Claire smiled and walked out of the room quietly. Making her way downstairs, the wooden floor cracking under her steps._

_Claire could hear noises coming from the kitchen and knew Jamie’s mother was awake, already at the task of preparing some breakfast._

_Catching her reflection in the mirror in the hall, she brushed on her shirt before taking a long breath and walking into the kitchen._

_Clearing her throat, she announced herself, “Good morning.”_

_Ellen, who had just taken some freshly baked scones out of the oven, stood up and looked at Claire with a polite smile. “Mornin’ to ye, too.”_

_Claire returned the smile, in the faint hope that the awkwardness of the day before had dissipated. Or would soon. She didn’t mind having to pretend she was nothing more to Jamie than a friend but she knew his mother wasn’t a fool._

_“It smells delicious.”_

_“Jamie’s favourites,” she announced proudly, putting the plate onto the table like she knew some sort of secret Claire didn’t. “I always make some when he comes home.”_

_“I’m sure he’ll be very grateful for that this morning.” Claire stood awkwardly next to the table, crossing her arms._

_“I reckon he’s not awake yet?” She asked, knowing full well he wasn’t since she had left him asleep, in her room, only minutes ago. Though, Ellen did not know this little detail.  
_

_“No, he isna. Did ye sleep well? The beds are as old as the house, sometimes ‘tis no’ the best.” Ellen watched her and something in her eyes told Claire she was aware she didn’t sleep that much. Though, it had nothing to do with the state of the bed._

_“I slept very well, thank you.” She assured, looking at her._

_“How long have ye been seein’ my son, Claire?” Ellen asked as if she was only wondering if she’d take coffee or tea with the scones._

_Claire blinked, trying not to show how much the question threw her off. “I…well, it’s been a few weeks now.”_

_“I’m no’ blind, I see the way Jamie looks at ye and the way ye look at him. I dinna recall a time when I saw my son so taken wi’ a lass.”_

_“Well –” Claire had no time to answer that Ellen continued._

_“Though, I do wonder what yer husband thinks about all of this?” Her eyes travelled down to her left ring finger, stopping on the thin gold band._

_“I don’t think he’d be particularly happy about this situation if he was still alive, that’s for sure.” Claire spat out, more aggressively than she had intended._

_Yesterday, she had kept quiet at every disguised insult Ellen threw at her but this was the last drop. She wore this ring to honour Elliot’s memory – and she knew that if he had been alive, things would probably be different. But he wasn’t._

_“Oh.” Ellen cleared her throat, all of a sudden embarrassed._

_“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed…”_

_“That I was a slut? No, you shouldn’t have assumed that.”_

_“Claire, I think –”_

_“I know what you think. I’ve seen it on your face plain as day the moment you caught Jamie and I holding hands,” Claire said quickly, growing impatient. “I do care for your son, and I understand that I may not be exactly what you pictured for him, but we are together.”_

_“Oh, aye, for now,” Ellen clicked her tongue. “Jamie will come to his senses soon enough and realize yer too old for him. Christ, ye could be his mother! I hope ye’ve thought about that?”_

_Claire rolled her eyes, “Of course I’ve thought about it. I think about it more often than I probably should. I know what it looks like and trust me, I’ve tried to fight it. I didn’t want to fall for him, but it happened!” She threw her hands up in the air._

_“Yer no’ good for him, and I think we both know what the right thing for ye to do is and that’s to leave him before he gets anymore attached. Ye’ll only break his heart, Claire,” Ellen crossed her arms, looking at her._

_“When my husband died all those years ago, I didn’t think I would ever find someone who made me as happy as he did. Then, when the war ended, I decided to focus on my career because that was the only thing bringing me some slight joy after those horrendous five years. Never up to the point I met Jamie did I think I’d ever fall in love with anyone else…you can’t command these things.”_

_“I ken that, aye. But ‘tis no’ a wee age gap. ‘Tis twenty years! What will happen in a few years when Jamie will want children?”_

_Claire froze, trying her best not to lose her temper. Of course, she had thought about this. More times than she cared to count._

_“He’s too young now to think about this but I ken my son and I ken he wants a family of his own someday. I ken he wants to settle and marry but what will happen when he’ll want all these things and ye couldn’t give them to him?”_

_“Well I’m afraid that is none of your business. If things between us do work and in a couple of years Jamie wants children, we’ll talk about it and decide what we want to do. Together.”_

_“What kind of decision, eh? Ye’ll either be too old to carry children or ye wouldn’t want them, which I can understand. Ye have a life and a career, ye canna stop everythin’ for a child when ye’ll be approaching yer fifties.”_

_“This is a discussion I should have with Jamie when the time comes, not with you,” Claire tried to keep her cool, but it was starting to prove extremely difficult. She had fears about this relationship and this discussion had awoken them all._

_The other woman scoffed, “Aye, ye excite him now. Ye’re older, wiser. Ye ken what ye’re doin’ and he believes himself to be special because ye’re payin’ attention to him and not to the other men who are after ye. I canna blame him for that – ”_

_“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Claire wanted to leave, to find Jamie and to run out of here, but she was stuck._

_“I ken my son. He gets bored easily and when someone more excitin’ than ye will show up, he’ll forget about ye and move on. And eventually, ye will move on to other things too and this fling would only be a fond memory.”_

_“It’s not a fling!” she practically yelled, then took a deep breath. It never was and never would be._

_“And ‘tis no’ only the age difference,” Jamie’s mother continued, “What will happen if words about ye two come out at the university? My son has worked too hard for his future to be jeopardised in such a way. And I dinna believe ye’d be too happy to lose yer position, either.”  
_

_Elle was right. Though Claire didn’t need her teaching job and did not care about her reputation, Jamie’s future was too important to her. She couldn’t be the reason it all went awry._

_“If ye love my son the way ye pretend to, ye’ll let him go. For his own good before it gets any more serious. Ye ken he’s young and he has a life to live. Ye ken he has experiences to have before he settles into a routine like we have. I ken ye want the best for him and ye know ye’re not it, Claire.”_

_Claire stayed silent, swallowing the lump in her throat. Ellen was voicing all the fears she had about her relationship with Jamie – every single one of them. She knew from the start it was doomed. And yet, she had hoped it would work out. That age was just a number. But that gap would catch up with them, eventually. Maybe Ellen was right, after all. Maybe it was better to stop before both of them would truly get hurt._

_“Ye told me yerself,” Ellen walked over to her, touching her arm in sympathy. “Ye love Jamie. And the best thing ye could do for him is to let him go. He’ll never be your great love. That was your husband and ye canna ask him to compete wi’ that.”_

_Claire didn’t answer, it was worthless to try and explain that Jamie and Elliot were not the same things at all. One was her first love and the other was something else. Something she was too terrified to even recognize._

_It was too late now, anyway._

_Taking a long breath, Claire quickly wiped a tear and stood straighter. “I’ll pack my things and leave. Once he wakes up, you can tell Jamie I had an emergency at work. I’ll leave your son alone, you can be sure of it.”_

_“Aye, count on me, I’ll call the cab company to come and get ye,” Ellen said._

_Without another word, Claire reluctantly walked out of the kitchen and made her way back upstairs, praying Jamie was still asleep. Or maybe not so she could tell him everything and not leave without him._

_Much to her disappointment, he was still deep in slumber when she opened the door of the guest room. Taking some time to simply watch him – memorising every single detail about his face, his smile. She packed her belongings into the leather suitcase. Heart heavy and tears roaming free._

_When she was done, she walked towards the bed and for the last time, placed a kiss on his lips – careful not to wake him up. She brushed some curls back, leaning her head down and for the first time, she whispered out loud:_

_“I love you.”_

_She knew he couldn’t hear her, or if he did, he’d think he had been dreaming. But she couldn’t leave without telling it to him at least once._

_Gathering the last bit of courage she had left, Claire got up and took her suitcase before leaving the room and Lallybroch, altogether. Leaving her heart inside that bedroom, in Jamie’s hands._

_She hoped he would take good care of it._

**********

Claire returned to Oxford briefly to drop off her luggage and then packed a small bag with fresh clothes to take the train to London. She needed to get out, to get away from everything that just happened. Besides, she knew Jamie would come looking for her at her house the moment he returned from Scotland. She called the university and requested more time off, pretexting some urgent surgeries. 

She didn’t want to hide, but she didn’t have much choice. The last person she wanted to talk to was Jamie, considering he probably figured out by now she hadn’t had an emergency to get back to. And truthfully, she couldn’t face him. _She knew it_. This was for his own good _– no matter how much it hurt her_ , it would get better. 

_And one day, Jamie wouldn’t even think about her anymore._

Claire sighed and took another drag on her cigarette. She’d come to her favourite hotel in London, The Rookery. She was currently waiting for her bath to fill up all the way with hot water. Her brain kept wandering to thoughts of the scot, and to dispel them, she would take a sip of whatever alcohol was on hand. 

The next few days had been all the same. Claire not leaving the hotel, except to go to the hospital for a surgery or two. She knew she couldn’t avoid Oxford forever, though it was really tempting. After all, she didn’t need her teaching job. She could move here and never step foot in Oxford again _– or at least not until Jamie graduated._

Eventually, she had to face her responsibilities and went back to the little town, praying for the train journey to take twice the time it usually would. _It didn’t._ After about thirty minutes, she was back home. Walking slowly towards her house on Chapel Street. 

It was the middle of the afternoon, she knew Jamie had classes. Hopefully, that would be a reason enough not to bump into him in the streets. It didn’t help knowing he lived a few blocks away from hers and could be walking in the very same street at any given moment. 

_She felt empty, like a shell._ As if her heart had been ripped away from her and she had no one else to blame but herself. No amount of cigarettes nor alcohol would help, this time. She was slowly turning back into the ghost she had been before meeting Jamie. 

Her house felt empty too. It was dark and cold, reflecting the way she felt inside. She didn’t bother turning on the lights as she walked through the halls and then up the stairs to her room. Even though all she had done in London was sleep and bathe, Claire took one look at her bed and fell down onto it, her eyes drifting shut. 

When she awoke several hours later, her head was pounding. At least, that’s what she heard, a pounding noise. Claire blinked several times and realized the pounding noise wasn’t coming from her head, but from the front door downstairs. She knew who it was. _She did not move._

“Sassenach?” Jamie’s voice echoed. “Please open the door, I ken ye’re home.” 

Heart heavy, Claire rose slowly from the bed. It had gotten darker as the sun went down, and she nearly tripped on her shoes. Cursing herself all the way down the stairs, her sleepy state not helping much her condition. 

It wasn’t until she actually saw him that her heart broke. The tall scot looked like he was out of breath and the sadness in his eyes was overwhelming. 

“Jamie,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper. She wasn’t really surprised to see him at the door, she was sure he must have come often while she hid in London but she didn’t expect the overwhelming need to collapse into his arms at the sight of him.

“Thank Christ!” Jamie sighed in relief and hugged her tightly. 

Claire just stood there, her arms at her sides, fighting the urge to hold him. “I thought ye’d disappeared. Christ, I was worrit sick –” When he pulled back and saw the look on her face, his smile fell. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” she took a step back away from him. He flinched as if she’d just slapped him. 

“Why not? Sassenach, what’s going on?” He frowned. “I woke up the other day and ye were gone, my Mam said that ye had an emergency but I ken it wasn’t true. I packed my things and came straight back here but yer house was empty. I called the hospital and they told me ye were no’ working.”

“I had an emergency of sorts,” Claire shrugged. “I’d rather not talk about it just now, Jamie. Go home.” 

“No, a nighean,” Jamie shook his head, cupping her cheek.

“Please, go home.” She repeated, more firmly this time. 

“I won’t leave until ye tell me where ye went and why ye didn’t come back to Oxford after ye left. I came by every day wi’ the slight hope ye were back. Do ye ken how worried I was?!” 

“It was your mother!” Claire breathed out, tears already brimming to the surface. 

“She was in the kitchen when I came downstairs the other morning and she had quite a few things to say about the two of us, and I have to admit…” she took a deep breath to gather her courage. “I agree with a lot of it.” 

“Just what did she say?” Jamie asked and tried to reach for her hand, but she took another step back, her arms folded over her chest. “Did she tell ye that I’m too young for ye?” 

Claire laughed, a maniacal sound. “Something along those lines. She reminded me just _how_ old I am. We’re not right for each other, Jamie. This isn’t going to work.” 

“Claire, dinna say that…It was workin’ just fine.” He protested, the expression on his face breaking her heart. 

“But it won’t work forever. Twenty years is a long time, Jamie. We’re too different and one day, it will catch up with us.” Her voice was strong and she was impressed she managed not to have it break on the spot. 

“Sassenach, I canna believe this,” Jamie shook his head in disbelief and this time he did touch her, putting both his hands on her arms and sliding them down to take her hands. 

“Please, tell me ye dinna really want me to leave?” It wasn’t a question, it was a desperate plea. 

“I do, Jamie,” Claire lied, sniffling as tears started to fall down her cheeks. “I need you to leave me alone, and promise you won’t try and contact me again. It was fun while it lasted, but come on… we both know this was just a fling.” 

At her words, Jamie’s mouth opened and then closed. His posture changed and he released her hands. 

“A fling ye say?” His voice cracked, his eyes holding tears menacing to spill. 

“Yes,” Claire avoided his eyes, wiping at her face. 

“I’m too old for you, we both know it. This is exciting for you now but it’ll stop being once I won’t be able to give you the things you want. You’ll find someone your own age and soon you’ll forget all about me.” 

Jamie shook his head that hung low as he looked at his shoes. Slowly, he looked up at her again, this time, the tears were streaming down his face. “I could never forget ye, Sassenach.” 

He turned to walk towards the door and opened it, but before he left he turned back to her, his blue eyes piercing through her like a dagger. “It wasn’t just a fling for me, and I ken it wasna for ye either, Claire. I’ll go if I must but I’ll never forgive ye for this. Neither ye nor my mother.” 

He shut the door and left her alone. Claire wanted to call out to him – to open the door and run after him and never let him go. _It was too late._ At that moment, as she watched him walk out of her life forever, she realized that she loved him more than she had ever loved anyone. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as tears streamed down her face and she sank to the bottom of the stairs. In the distance, she felt as if she could hear her laugh echoing in the room upstairs _– where it echoed so many times when Jamie was around._ It had been a sound she hadn’t muttered for years before she met the young student. 

_A sound she wouldn’t mutter again._


	13. Moving On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There won't be a chapter Saturday but next week's back to regular programming with three chapters (Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday) since those will be the last ones in the story. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Autumn slowly turned into Winter and the Christmas holiday left space for a new semester. _The snow slowly melting away while the gloom of January had settled in._ It had been three months since Claire had broken up with Jamie. Three months where he had a hard time breathing. _Missing her._ Trying to concentrate on his classes and exams, shutting out any thoughts of Claire that might cross his mind. 

He avoided the halls where he would usually see her walk by. He avoided the library in case she’d be there grading papers _\-- she loved that place more than her own office._ Every time he heard heels clicking away on the marble floor, he panicked. He even made sure to take another way home not to walk by her house. Nevertheless, every single thing around him reminded him of her and it was driving him to madness. 

So much so that when he wasn’t busy with school work, he had started writing to empty his mind. _Inspired by Claire and the memories of her._

Jamie had been home from Christmas but barely spoke to his mother. Barely muttered a word when he knew she had been the one to drive Claire to the edge and make her do something she probably didn’t want to do. 

He knew he was breaking his mother’s heart, but she had inadvertently broken his. He tried not to think about how this past Christmas he could have shared with Claire, perhaps properly introduced her to his family. But there was no use in thinking about what could have been when it would never be. 

_Claire had to be a memory now._ One he’d cherish forever and one he’d never forget. In the few weeks they had been together, she had shaped him more than anyone he had met previously in his life. For that alone, he’d always be thankful. 

Jamie thought going back to campus would help. He believed going back to Oxford and away from Scotland would bring some joy back into his life but he was wrong. Every corner was clogged with memories. _With Claire._ Like a ghost haunting his memory. Everything reminded him of her and forever would, he sadly realised. He wondered what she did for Christmas _\-- if she even celebrated at all?_ The idea she had been alone broke his heart a little bit more than it already was. 

Sometimes, his feet took him towards the path to her house or to the medical department. But every time it happened, he froze and turned around when he realised what was happening. He wrote letters he never sent her. He dialled her number so many times. He even asked for her at the hospital before hanging up before she could come to the phone. 

At night, he prayed she would change her mind and tell him she couldn’t live without him. He also prayed she’d be safe and happy before drifting to sleep and dreaming of the life they might have had together. _Jamie had to learn to live without his heart._ It would be difficult but he’d be used to it soon. He busied himself into work and prayed time would heal him -- or at least, help soothe his sorrow. 

Jane invited him to some charity event on campus, later that evening. He wanted to say no _\-- almost said no in fact --_ the fears of seeing Claire creeping on him like a rash. But she had been too insistent and he decided that Claire was probably too busy to attend such a thing. _So he said yes._

He was wearing the best suit he owned, with a simple black bow tie. His hair was slightly slicked back off his forehead, and when he looked in the mirror, he thought he looked at least five years older than he really was. Jane was waiting for him in the living room, they would walk to campus together. 

“Don’t you look dashing,” Jane smiled when he walked in the room. He spun around for her so she could get the full effect. 

“Ye look beautiful, Jane. Tis a lovely dress,” he smiled, admiring her black dress and offered his arm out for her to take. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Jane agreed and they started the short journey to the university. 

Jamie was quiet on the walk, his thoughts drifting to Claire once again. Jane caught on and squeezed his arm. 

“Something on yer mind, lad? Ye seem a bit preoccupied.” 

“Och, tis nothin’, just school and such,” he lied, smiling politely. 

“Are ye thinkin’ about anyone in particular? Or is it really just school and such?” Jane elbowed him in the side playfully. In the past few weeks, he had been spending more time with Jane and he found he enjoyed her company. She was kind, smart and beautiful, and he was comfortable around her considering he had known her for so many years. _She was a welcome distraction._

“I would rather no’ discuss it right now, Jane,” Jamie said. “I’m sorry. I’ll try and be on my best behaviour tonight though,” he smiled and put away all thoughts of Claire. 

Finally, they reached the university and followed all the signs that pointed to where they needed to go. Jamie had mostly agreed to come so he would be able to network -- something that would come in handy the minute he’d graduated in a couple of months. 

The second they stepped inside the reception, his eyes scanned the room to find Claire. Whom, much to his disappointment, didn’t seem to be here. He was slightly relieved, though. 

“Let’s get some drinks,” Jane smiled, pulling him towards the bar. 

Nodding, Jamie absently followed her and looked around. “I’m the only student here,” he remarked. 

“You’re my assistant, that’s a reason enough for you to be here,” she smiled. “What do you drink?” 

Jamie wondered for a moment, “A glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, please.” 

“No whisky?” Jane’s eyebrows rose up in question. “That’s surprising.” 

“Aye, I took a liking of red wine these days,” he smiled softly, remembering the time Claire made him try it. 

“Listen to you,” she grinned, ordering the drinks and leaned against the bar. “So you want to teach once you graduate?” 

He nodded, sitting on a stool. “Aye, I can see myself do so.” 

“You’ll be great at it!” She leaned closer to him, whispering. “I’ll be sure to put a good word with Dean Hadfields for you.”

“Ah, ye dinna have to do that, Jane,” Jamie blushed. “That’s too much.” 

“I insist!” Jane smiled and wrapped her arm around his waist. 

“Well, thank ye,” he smiled, looking at her. He reached to brush some hair away from her face. 

Jane smiled, her proximity not lost on him and he felt a warmth creeping up his cheeks. “Drinks.” He stated, grabbing the glasses the bartender held out to him. 

“Thank you,” Jane kissed his cheek, her lips lingering on a spot near the side of his mouth and took the drink out of his hand. 

He cleared his throat, sitting down again. “Ye’re welcome. Slainte.” 

“Slainte!” She winked and took a sip of her whisky. 

Jamie avoided her eyes altogether, noticing how she had been staring at his lips while she sipped, and looked around again. Suddenly, his hands started to moisten and something in his stomach switched. It didn’t take him too long to realise Claire had walked inside the room. 

He froze, unable to take his eyes off her. Something Jane seemed to have noticed, as her own eyes travelled around the room to stop on the doctor. 

“Ah. There she is.” She mumbled, taking another sip of her drink. 

_There she was._ Her curls pinned up, a few locks escaping. She was wearing a long emerald green dress that seemed to be silk -- though from the dim lights, Jamie couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t until the moment she turned around to say hello to someone that he noticed the open back. And feeling his knees wobble by the same occasion. _His mouth was dry and his heart racing._

“Should we go talk to her?” Jane asked, but she was already heading over in Claire’s direction. 

_Christ._ Jamie wasn’t ready to talk to Claire. They hadn’t spoken a single word since that night he went to her house. 

Just before the Christmas break, he had dropped off his paper -- the one that was the whole reason he ever contacted her in the first place, to her desk. He wanted her to read it, but he had no idea if she had or what she thought of it. 

“Hello Claire, ‘tis good to see you!” Jane said and hugged Claire. Jamie stood back, not sure what to do or say. “I wasna sure you would be here tonight.” 

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it,” Claire smiled politely, her eyes travelling to the red-haired Scot. 

“Jamie,” she looked at him faintly. “You look well.” 

“You look...well, ye look beautiful as always,” Jamie said softly, and at that moment it was like they were the only two in the room. But the moment didn’t last long and soon the spell was broken as Jane was asking Claire about what she had done over the holidays. 

“I just stayed at home,” Claire said to Jane who was downing her drink. “I don’t have any family nearby, so it was just me, oh and my new cat!” 

“Your cat?” Jamie interjected, and Claire turned her body slightly towards him to include him in the conversation. 

“Yes, I adopted a small grey British shorthair, he’s kept me company,” she smiled - _\- that tender smile she only had for him._

“What’s his name?” Jane asked, pretending interest. “I like cats, but I’m more of a dog person myself.” 

“His name is Adso, the cutest little thing,” Claire answered.

“Tis a great name,” Jamie said and raised his glass. 

“Yes,” Claire answered and smiled, a sadness hidden in her eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to the dean about something. It was lovely to see you both.” 

“You as well!” Jane waved goodbye and then was dragging Jamie off to sit at their assigned table. “She looked skinny, didn’t she? Like she’d lost some weight and such.” 

“What?” Jamie frowned. “I didna notice her weight, Jane.” 

“Men,” she rolled her eyes and took another sip of her whisky. “She just looks thin is all, I hope she’s okay.” 

“I’m sure ye do,” Jamie muttered under his breath. In the weeks he had spent with Jane, he had also heard all her backhanded compliments about Claire. 

“How long is this event anyway?” He quickly changed the subject. 

“I reckon an hour or two,” Jane replied, smirking. “Why? Have some big plans to get to? I was hoping you’d come over to mine for a late-night dram.” 

“Yeah, sure, Jane,” Jamie agreed without really knowing what he was agreeing to. 

He was too busy watching Claire sit down at her own table nearby -- next to someone he didn’t recognize, but Claire obviously knew. She was smiling at something he’d said. Jamie’s fingers twitched on the table, and he cursed anyone who’d ever made her smile that wasn’t him.

“Oh, it’s starting,” Jane tapped his arm and the dean stepped up onto a platform, making some kind of welcome speech. 

Some speech he didn’t listen to, again taken by Claire. Watching her every move and how she conducted herself next to this man and the other people at her table. At some point, she sensed him and looked over at him, their eyes locking. He felt his breath hiss and his heart race. He wanted to get up and go over her table to talk to her. 

_But he couldn’t._

Jane looked at him and turned his head, smirking, “The speech is that way, lad.” 

“Sorry,” he forced a smile and focused his attention back on the dean who was wrapping up now. The next part of the evening was dinner, and Jamie’s stomach was growling. 

“This looks delicious,” Jane exclaimed as their food was set in front of them. Jamie had chosen the chicken, while she had chosen the fish. 

“Aye, it does,” Jamie smiled and took a bite, savouring the flavour. He was about to take another bite, but then Jane was holding a fork in front of his face. 

“Here, try my fish,” she said and fed him what was on her fork. “Does it taste good?” 

Jamie chewed and swallowed and as he wiped his mouth, he looked up to see that Claire was watching them, her gaze frozen on them. She turned back immediately when she saw him looking at her. 

“Aye, it’s fine fish,” Jamie chewed and then took a sip of wine. _How much longer would this evening last?_

After they ate, someone else came up to speak and then spoke about how much the charity had raised in the last year and what they were hoping to tonight. Jamie, of course, wouldn’t be donating any money himself, but he was happy to be there in support. 

At last, the evening came to an end, and Jamie was sliding his arms into his coat. He helped Jane into hers, and took one last sip of wine before they made their way outside. He lingered, not wanting to leave just yet _\-- hoping to see Claire one last time._ But sometime around dessert, she had disappeared and must have left the charity event early. 

“Thank you for coming with me tonight, Jamie. I couldn’t have faced it alone,” Jane smiled, her arm hooking through his. 

“It seems I’m one of the few unmarried women here at the university, everyone else had their husbands with them. Well, except Doctor Beauchamp but she dinna need one, all the men like to keep her company, anyway.”

His jaw tightened and he had to bite the inside of his cheek not to say a word. He felt tipsy and he knew it wasn’t a good idea to stir up conversation about Claire to Jane in this state. 

“It was nae bother. Happy to come wi’ ye,” he looked down at her, ignoring her comment about the love of his life. 

“Are ye still coming back to mine for that dram?” Jane asked and moved her hand up to cup his cheek. “It’s not too late, and ‘tis a Friday.” 

“Sure,” Jamie replied and then before he knew what was happening he was being kissed. 

Jane had stood on her toes and was now kissing him. Jamie froze, unsure what to do, but her lips tasted nice and the wine was going to his head. He lost himself, his hands wrapping around her as he deepened the kiss. He thought he’d heard some heels clicking in the distance but he wasn’t sure. He knew those footsteps. 

_Claire’s_. 

When he opened his eyes, he realised what was happening. He pulled back immediately, wiping his hand across his mouth and quickly looked around for the curly-haired professor who had most likely seen them.

“Christ, Jane. I don’t know what came over me,” Jamie breathed heavily. 

“It’s okay,” Jane smiled coyly. “It was me who kissed you, dear.” 

“We canna do that again,” he said quickly and ran his hands back through his hair. “That was just a drunken mistake, I promise it won’t happen again.” 

Jane’s face fell, “What do you mean? I thought that older women were sort of your thing?” 

“My _what_?” Jamie asked, not sure he heard her right. 

“Oh Jamie,” Jane touched his hand. “I know you had feelings for Professor Beauchamp. I thought it might extend to all women around her age, but I suppose I was wrong.” 

“Aye,” Jamie pulled his hand back, anger starting to rise up. “Ye were wrong. I’m sorry, Jane, it seems I canna come by for that dram after all. ‘Tis late and I’m rather tired.” 

“Jamie!” Jane shouted at him as he started to walk away. 

Jamie didn’t have a thing for older women -- he had a thing for one woman, and her name was Claire Beauchamp. 

However, he couldn’t be with her anymore and the knowledge alone was enough to make tears stream free from his eyes as he made his way home.


	14. Rendez-Vous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this story and enjoy the new chapter <3 See ya on Thursday

_**6 months later** _

_Time was a funny thing._

Months would go by in a flash without anyone noticing. In a flash, Jamie had graduated from Oxford University. _That_ _was_ _six_ _months_ _ago_. Since then, he had been back in Scotland, trying to decide what to do with his life. But instead of focusing on his future, he did the only thing his mind was able to do: he thought about Claire. 

And not to be completely unproductive, he wrote about her. 

Or more so, a novel inspired by her. Truthfully, he had started it while he was still a student and he didn’t expect it to turn out to be such a big book, yet now, it was. 

That’s why Jamie found himself in London for a few days, going around publishing house after publishing house, with the hope of finding someone willing to publish this book. He had realised the grief he felt at the loss of Claire had turned into creativity and if it was good enough for him not to hurt too much, it was already something. 

He didn’t think anyone would be interested but he had nothing else to do. He still wanted to teach, maybe just not in Oxford. 

_Heartbreak was a terrible thing --_ but when he remembered the short time he spent with Claire, he realised it had all been worth it. No matter how much he had hoped for things to turn out differently. He was grateful for the time they spent together. _And grateful for the memories._ _Of afternoons reading together and mornings making love. Of their walks in the park in the middle of the night when they couldn’t sleep and their trip to Paris._ He was grateful for it all and mostly, for the fact that Claire made him a man. _A good man._ Unconsciously, everything he did or he would ever do, was in the vain hope of making her proud of him. 

Walking down the narrow streets, he realised he liked London. It might be dirty and grey, but it was a nice city. With lots of life and things to do. He could move here and find a teaching job. Or write some more if anyone thought his writing was good enough. He couldn’t help but think of the time Claire brought him with her to a surgery...and what followed the next day, when they got back to her house. 

No matter what he did or where he was, everything revolved around her. Maybe it would stop one day. _Or maybe it wouldn’t._

Hearing his stomach growl, he realised he hadn’t eaten since the croissant he had on the train this morning and it was now well past noon. Without thinking too much about it, he walked into the first pub he found, on a corner of Old Street. 

It wasn’t very packed and it reeked of cigarettes, another scent reminiscent of Claire. He walked towards the nearest free table and removed his tweed jacket, along with his scarf before sitting down. A waitress came over to take his order and he asked for a simple fish and chips with a cold beer. Embracing the London way of things. 

It was rather dark in the pub, and as Jamie looked around he only counted seven other people. He did a double take as he scanned the room, his eyes landing on someone in the corner. 

_It was Claire._

Or at least he thought it was. Her hair wasn’t her normal mess of curls, but instead, it was straightened and styled in a way he’d never seen on her before. She was smiling absently, reading something as she sat by herself, and Jamie felt his insides clench. He couldn’t leave, he had already ordered his food, and besides, he was starving and didn’t have the time to find another place. 

As far as he knew, Claire hadn’t seen him, so Jamie just turned his head down and focused on a book he’d pulled out from his bag. Part of him wanted her to see him, but the other part, the part of him he’d been trying to cope with, hoped she never saw him again.

His food arrived, and the smell of the hot fish filled his nostrils. He dug in, trying to eat quickly so he could get out of there, but the fish was so hot it was burning his mouth. A screech, like a chair being moved, came from the corner where Claire was and he glanced up to see her moving towards the restroom. Maybe if he ate fast, he could duck out before she came back. 

Scarfing down four chips at a time, Jamie’s plan to escape was thwarted when only a minute later, Claire returned. He knew she had seen him -- he felt the hairs rise on his arm. Heels clicked on the floor, and soon, a figure was standing next to him. 

He felt his heart in his throat and a cold drop of sweat running down his neck. He often wondered what type of reaction he would have to see Claire again -- he had pictured something like this. Swallowing, Jamie looked up to meet the whisky eyes he lost himself in so often. 

“Claire,” her name rolled off his tongue like it did so many times. So perfectly fit for his mouth, as if it had only been created for him to say. 

He cleared his throat trying to compose himself. “Fancy seein’ ye here.” 

“Jamie Fraser,” her lip flicker up, the smile illuminating her beautiful face. “What are you doing in London? This is the last place I ever expected to see you.” 

“I have some business in town, I’m here for a few weeks.” He replied, wiping his mouth. 

“You look well,” she remarked, observing him. He was aware he looked more mature than he had six months ago and he was sure she noticed. At least, he hoped. 

Before he could say anything, she continued, “Look, I’m on my break from the hospital, but I would love to catch up with you while you’re in town...If you want, of course.” 

“Aye, I’d love that, Sas...Claire.” Jamie smiled, and he found it was easier to talk to her than he thought. “I dinna have plans tonight if yer free.” 

Claire glanced at her watch on her slim wrist, “I have to go back to the hospital for surgery, but it shouldn’t take long. What do you say, eight o’clock? Where are you staying? I can come by.” 

“The Rookery, ’tis no’ verra far from here, actually --” 

“Oh,” Claire’s smile faded a bit. “Well, yes, I know where that is.” 

“Aye, ye’ve heard of it?” Jamie asked but didn’t wait for her answer. “Eight sounds perfect. I better let ye get back to yer work.” 

“See you later,” she touched his arm and smiled once more -- a nervous one, he noticed. 

Jamie watched her walk away, his eyes lingering on her body a tad too long. He wondered if what just happened had been real or simply a fragment of his imagination playing tricks on him. Claire was coming to his hotel. 

_Tonight._

**********

Jamie walked around his room, waiting for her to arrive. He had cleaned up more than was necessary and spent most of his time behind the window, looking down the street to see if she was on her way. 

He ordered some wine that had been delivered twenty minutes ago and the clock on the wall seemed to have stopped working altogether along with his own watch. 

Maybe she wouldn’t show up, the thought had come up more times than not and he couldn’t blame her. Maybe she had just been polite at the pub and she was in no way going to come here, after all. Or the surgery took longer than anticipated. 

Sitting down on the bed, he looked at himself in the mirror and fixed his hair as best as he could. He wondered why he didn’t take fancier clothes in his suitcase -- his shirt was wrinkled and his old corduroy pants looked actually terrible with his shoes. 

He didn’t know why he was worried _\-- she wasn’t going to show up anyway._

Jamie closed his eyes and leaned back on the bed, already accustoming himself with the idea that he wouldn’t see her tonight. _Or any night._ Better prepare himself for some disappointment -- not that his heart would ever be able to break again since it was already broken. 

The ticking of the clock actually started to drive him mad and it was way past 8 pm, now. _The seconds turn into minutes. Minutes into an hour._ He should simply take a shower and go to bed, forgetting about his encounter with Claire earlier. He was supposed to think about his book and the meetings he had in the upcoming days. Meetings that could potentially change his life if someone believed in him enough. But no, all his senses were clogged by her. _Like they usually were._

A knock finally came -- bringing with it panic and fear all over again. 

Slowly, Jamie got up and fixed his appearance. He wasn’t in a rush to open the door and to realise it wasn’t her. He took a deep breath, hand shaking as he reached for the handle. As he opened, it seemed the door was three times heavier than it actually was -- until it revealed Claire. 

The sight making all his doubts disappear in a second. 

She had changed from the outfit she was wearing at the pub -- now wearing some high waisted trousers and a shirt, along with some brown oxfords. And some humidity had brought back some of her curls. He had to fight the urge to run his fingers through her hair. 

“Hello,” she said softly, almost shyly. He knew she didn’t know what to do or say, just as much as him. All he wanted to do was gather her into his arms and hold her for eternity -- but he refrained, for now. 

“Ye came,” was the only thing he could mutter, a smile forming on his lips. 

“I’m sorry to be so late...the surgery didn’t go quite the way I expected but it turned out okay in the end. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long? I can leave again if you have other obligations --” 

“I had no other plans for tonight, Sassenach.” He assured her and he saw her relax slightly. 

“Oh good.” She smiled, holding out an expensive bottle of wine. “I got you this as a graduation present, a few months late. Top of your class, I’m very proud of you.”

_She was proud of him._ The knowledge alone made his heart beam with pride and happiness. 

He took the bottle, their fingers brushing and cleared his throat, “Thank ye. Come on in.” 

“Oh, I see you already have a bottle of wine,” Claire remarked as he sat down her bottle next to the one he had ordered. “I should have got you something else.” 

“Och, dinna fash. Yours is the better choice of the two,” Jamie smiled and moved the other bottle aside. “So, did ye want to go anywhere in particular?”

“Well, I was actually thinking about just staying here,” she waved her hand around the room. “It’s so lovely, and most places are closed by now. I hope that’s okay.” 

_Was it?_ Claire wanted to stay in his hotel room… _alone with him._

“Perfect,” he nodded, trying to play it cool, and took a seat at the small table, placing a wine glass in front of Claire. She sat opposite him after removing her coat and crossed one leg over the other. 

“So, Claire, why are ye in London? Just surgeries or?” He asked, eyes on his task. Skillfully, Jamie uncorked the bottle and poured the dark liquid into both of their glasses. 

“I moved here a few months ago,” she took the glass before taking a sip of her wine. “I no longer work at Oxford.” 

This was news to Jamie. He hadn’t heard about her leaving, and he wondered what had been the reason to make her leave a place she had loved. 

“Och, do ye miss it? Sometimes I do, but I’m glad to be done wi’ it all. The books and papers, tis a relief not to live my life wi’ a deadline at every corner,” he laughed softly. 

“I do miss it actually,” Claire laughed with him. “But, it’s better this way. I love London and I just needed to get away -- to start fresh.”

_Start fresh._ So she probably left because of what happened between the two of them. 

“Did ye leave because of me?” The question escaped him and he studied her face carefully before she could answer. 

“Not because of you, no,” she assured him. 

“But when the school year ended, I thought about what I wanted to do and teaching wasn’t at the top of my list anymore. I wanted to spend my time healing people and take the rest to be free to do whatever I wanted.” 

He smiled, relieved at her answer. “Weel, ‘tis too bad for those medical students who won’t be lucky enough to have ye as their professor.” 

“Don’t worry for them, they’ll be in capable hands,” she took another sip, smiling. 

“But you still haven’t told me exactly why you’re here, lad.” She moved her fingers up and down the stem of the glass. 

He took a deep breath, unsure whether to tell her everything. Jamie decided to tell her the whole truth and hold nothing back. “Believe or no’, I’ve written a book and I’m here looking at publishing houses.” 

“I can believe it!” She smiled and sat forward, her hand coming to rest on his wrist. “You know, I read your history paper you left on my desk, it was really spectacular, Jamie. You have a gift.”

“Thank ye,” he answered sincerely. 

“What’s your book about? A romance novel?” She smirked. 

“Actually…’tis a romance of a sort, aye.” Jamie looked at her, his other hand coming to rest on top of hers. 

"It’s about ye, Claire.” 

She scoffed, “Me? What would it even be about? I haven’t done anything worth writing a book about.” 

“That’s no true, Sassenach and ye ken it. I didna use yer name of course, but tis about yer life -- yer time in the war, being a prisoner… everything.” 

Claire pulled her hand back and crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head. “Jamie, you know that I haven’t told anyone about that part of my life. That also applies to you. I don’t want people to know what happened, can’t you understand that?” 

“Aye, I do understand, Sassenach. But ye canna live yer life hiding the fact that ye’re a war hero. And people wouldn’t know ‘tis about ye -- ”

“Jamie...” she sighed, getting up. 

Quickly, he grabbed her hand and looked up at her. His eyes pleading. “Listen, read it. Read it and once ye’re done ye can tell me to publish it or no’. If ye dinna want me to do it, I won’t. I promise ye.” 

She didn’t answer for a moment, the wheels turning in her head -- he could tell. He was terrified she’d leave now. Terrified not to see her again. He couldn’t go through it a second time. 

Calmly, she sat down again before she spoke, “Fine, I’ll read it. But if I don’t approve of it, I’m sorry you’ll have to find something else for people to publish.”

“Aye, I give ye my word.” Jamie squeezed her hand, nodding. He got up and walked towards his satchel to take out his manuscript. Walking back towards the table, he handed it to her. 

“Thank you,” she took it, curiously eyeing the book. It wasn’t anything fancy, just his manuscript with the title and his name written on the first page. 

Claire looked at him again, “I can’t read that now, it’s rather big, Jamie.” 

“I ken,” he laughed softly, “But could ye at least open the first page to take a look?” 

Frowning, Claire looked at him suspiciously before opening the manuscript. He swallowed, watching her as she looked at the dedication that said: 

_“To the light of my life._

_Sorcha.”_

Claire ran her fingers over the inscription but stayed quiet. Her head was low and the curls were covering her face but he saw her wipe a tear quickly.

_“_ This book is for ye, Claire. Published or no’, I wrote it for ye and yer opinion on it is the only one that matters to me.” 

She looked at him then and smiled warmly. Gratefully, almost. And he felt all giddy inside. She closed the manuscript and pushed it further on the table before leaning back in her chair to look at him. 

“I didna expect ye to read it now, of course. Take yer time.”Jamie sat back down across from her, taking a cigarette out of his front pocket to calm his nerves,

“Oh because you smoke now?” Her eyebrows raised in question. 

“I dinna think ye have anythin’ to say to me on that subject,” he grinned, blowing out some smoke before handing the cigarette to her. 

She took it without a word and brought it to her lips, in an almost graceful gesture. She inhaled and returned it to him with a ring of her red lipstick around it. Jamie took it back and placed his lips on the end, wishing it was her lips he was kissing and not just the memory on a cigarette. 

“Where are ye living?” He asked, watching her intensely.

“Over in Notting Hill,” she waved her hand in the general direction. “A simple house.” 

“Nothin’ in simple about Notting Hill,” Jamie snorted, not that he was surprised at her understatement. “So no’ too far from here in case ye get home late.” 

“Indeed,” Claire leaned against the table and Jamie’s eyes glanced down, seeing how the top button was undone, letting him get a peek of her decolletage. “Do you already want me to go?” 

“Do ye want to go, Sassenach?” He felt suddenly very bold as their eyes locked for the countless time that evening. 

“I think we both know I won’t be going home tonight if I stay too long.” She said simply, not breaking their gaze. 

“Is that so?” Jamie took another puff of his cigarette and then put it out in the ashtray. Of course, he knew he wasn’t about to let her out of this room as long as she wanted to stay. “What makes ye so sure of yerself?”

She smirked and ran her fingers back through her hair. “Oh, it might have something to do with the way you keep squirming in your seat. Or how your eyes keep glancing down my top.”

“I wouldna dare touch a lady wi’out her permission,” Jamie said and leaned forward. 

“Well...this lady is asking you to touch her,” Claire said bluntly, reaching across the table to stroke his cheek. 

This was the last thing Jamie ever expected to happen tonight. He had dreamt of it for months, of touching her body, of kissing her plump lips once again, but now it was really happening and he wanted to cherish every moment. 

Jamie stood up, and took her hand, pulling Claire to her feet. He placed both of his hands on her cheeks, glancing down at the beautiful woman he loved with all his heart. Leaning in, he hovered, his lips not quite touching hers. Claire pressed forward, a needy urgent sound escaping her lips, but he pulled back, shaking his head. 

“Ask me again, Claire,” he pleaded, his voice deep. _“Ask me.”_

“I want you,” she whispered, her hands sliding up his chest. “I want you to touch me, Jamie. I need you.” 

Their lips crashed, and Jamie felt like his heart would surely burst. He took two steps forward, pressing Claire against the wall. Her hands were already at his trousers, removing his belt. Apparently, they weren’t going to waste any time. 

The only sound in the room was their heavy breathing and the sound of buttons flying off and zippers being undone. Jamie gasped whenever Claire slid her hand over him, only lightly stroking. 

“Christ,” he looked down at her, seeing how her lips were parted. Jamie pulled off her shirt, then unzipped her trousers and pulled them down over the curve of her arse. He paused on his knees, admiring the view. 

Claire blushed, running her hands through his hair. He placed a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh and then the other. His breath was hot over her panties and before he placed his lips between her thighs, she yanked on his hair. 

“I meant it when I said I needed you…” she pulled his head up and kissed him. 

“I need you inside of me.” 

“God, yes,” Jamie unhooked her bra, his fingers tracing her nipples as they slid down to remove her panties. He was still in his briefs, but Claire already had her thumbs hooked in and was pulling them down to gather at his ankles. 

“Up,” he commanded and Claire jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist. 

Spinning them so that Jamie’s back was against the wall, he moved one hand between their bodies and guided his cock inside of her. They both moaned, their foreheads pressing together. He started to move, slowly at first, before he increased -- the need to possess her took over him. _She was his and he was hers._ He intended to make this very clear tonight. 

“Look. Look down,” Jamie grunted. “Watch while I take ye. Watch, damn you!” 

He began to thrust up, hitting her depths again and again. Claire was holding onto him for dear life, both arms wrapped around his neck while she looked down at the place of their joining. With every thrust, the thud of their bodies against the wall filled the room. Jamie slid both hands down to cup her arse, spreading both her cheeks to fill her even more. 

“Jamie!” Claire cried out, sweat dripping down both of their bodies. 

With fierce ownership overwhelming him, Jamie bounced Claire on top of him, feeling his cock spear into her. He wouldn’t last much longer. Claire pressed her mouth to his, her tongue parting his lips. Once again, Jamie felt completely whole, like a piece of himself was restored and he was holding it now in his arms. 

“Oh God, Sassenach,” Jamie groaned and spilt into her, slowing his movements. Claire’s hands were hooked into his hair, tugging on it as she came around him. Feeling his knees give way, Jamie slid down the wall, taking Claire with him, still joined. 

Resting her head against his chest, Claire took a deep breath. 

“That was --” 

“ _Amazing_?” Jamie finished for her, his lip flicking up in a proud smile. “Aye, mo nighean donn.” 

“Why did we ever stop doing that?” Claire asked and kissed the tip of his nose, her fingers lightly touching his chest. Jamie’s hands wandered along her bareback. 

“I think it had something to do wi’ my mother,” Jamie said and then they both burst into a laugh, realizing how that sounded. 

“Ye ken my meaning.” He stroked her hair back, looking into her whisky eyes. 

“Eventually, she told me what she said to ye. Sassenach --” he sighed, cupping her cheek. “I ken ye left me because ye thought it was the best thing for me but...It wasna. And I’m sorry my mam’s words drove ye to it. I’m so sorry.” 

“So am I for running away that easily,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his. “Do you forgive me?”

Gently, Jamie kissed her temple, his arms tightening around her. The truth was, he’d forget everything she’d done and everything she could do, long before that day. He had no choice, that was being in love. 

“Forgiven,” he whispered in her hair, closing his eyes. 

Jamie didn’t know how long they stayed on the floor, simply holding one another. At some point, he finally carried her over to the bed and showed her just how much he had missed her, and himself when he was with her, for the rest of the night. 


	15. Now What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Enjoy this new chapter and see you Saturday for the epilogue <3

When Jamie woke up that morning, he felt whole. Like a piece of his heart had been attached back on and he had no trouble breathing. _The pillow smelled like Claire. His lips tasted like Claire._ He was wrapped in a cloud of her and it was the most delightful feeling. Moving slowly, his eyes still closed, he patted the spot on the mattress next to him but it was empty. 

The scot opened his eyes slowly, letting them accustom back to the morning light coming through the window. He didn’t know for how long he had slept – other than the fact that they both fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, tangled together. But he felt happy and it was all that mattered right now. 

He turned his head, rubbing his eyes and saw her. Sitting on the chair, legs up on the desk and crossed at the ankles. Her hair was back to its normal state of crazy curls and she was wearing his shirt, only closed by a button in the middle. Cigarette dangling from her lips and round glasses on the tip of her nose. The sight altogether made his heart beam at how much quintessentially Claire it was. 

Until he realised she was reading his book. _Panic starting to creep upon him._

Jamie sat up slowly, pulling the covers over him and clearing his throat. When she didn’t move, he did it again, slightly louder this time. 

Claire turned her head, resting the cigarette on the ashtray, “Well, good morning.” 

“Good mornin’, Sassenach,” he smiled softly, nervous at what she might be thinking about the book. If she hated it, it was over. 

“How long have ye been up?” 

“For quite a while,” Claire removed her glasses and put them on the table, along with the book. Getting up, she walked over to the bed. “I’ve been doing some reading.” 

For once, her face was unreadable which wasn’t helping with his panic. Jamie held out his hand to her and smiled. “Anythin’ particularly interesting?” 

“I have a question for you, James Fraser.” She crossed her arms, her eyebrows raising.   
  
He felt a drop of sweat running down his back and swallowed. “Aye…? What is it?” 

_“How dare you?”_

He didn’t know what to say. _Speechless_.

Actually, Jamie wanted to get up and run out of the room. _Disappear forever._ That was it, it was over. Before he had the time to muster anything, still rather surprised by her question, she spoke again. 

“How dare you be so good at writing?” Her lip flicked up into a mischievous smile, her entire face illuminating. 

Jamie chuckled, relief crashing over him. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “Ye got me worried for a minute.” 

“It’s beautiful, Jamie. Your paper was already something but this is… You have such a way with words, I can’t believe it’s about me.” 

“It is. All of it, ‘tis ye Claire. How I see ye and what ye did durin’ the war.” He kissed her hand softly. He had wanted to tell her story since the moment she had trusted him enough with it. And the sheer knowledge he had done it justice was enough to soothe all his fears. 

“So ye’re likin’ it?” 

“I’m very much in love with it,” she stroked his cheek, wrapping both her legs around his waist. 

Leaning closer, she whispered against his lips as if she was about to tell him a secret, “Almost as much as I’m in love with you.” 

He blinked, his mouth hanging open. He probably had misheard this. _It couldn’t be._ “What did ye just say?” 

“I said…” Claire kissed the tip of his nose, wrapping her arms around his neck, “I’m in love with your book almost as much as I’m in love with you, Jamie Fraser. ” 

“I’m still asleep, aye?” He asked, cupping her cheeks. “Ye did no’ just say that to me for real? I’m sleepin’ – ” 

“I’m afraid you are awake and I did say this to you for real,” she grinned, biting her lower lip. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have?” 

“Christ, no! Oh, Claire,” Jamie held her tightly, closing his eyes. He actually felt like his heart was about to burst with happiness. _She loved him._ “I love ye so, Sassenach. From the first moment I saw ye, I was gone for ye and I haven’t stopped for a second since then.” 

Claire looked at him, stroking his chin with her index finger. “I know that maybe one day, you’ll want something else or someone else but as long as you’ll want me, I’ll be yours. I just hope it’ll be a while.” 

“Ye dinna understand, do ye?” He smiled, almost amused.

“Ye’re all I want, Claire. For now and forever. I ken it, deep down and I’ve known it since the first time I saw ye walkin’ in the hall. That day, I felt like what I’ve been lookin’ for in life finally was in front of me. I dinna care about our ages, I dinna care about what people say or think.” Jamie kissed her lips gently before continuing. 

“I dinna care about anythin’ if ye’re by my side and I can love ye the way ye deserve.” 

“You’re crazy, do you know that?” She smiled warmly, her eyes shiny. He saw so much love and adoration floating in their whisky colour that he wanted to weep.

“I’ve been told, once or twice, aye,” Jamie grinned, holding her close. “‘Tis part of my charms, ye ken?” 

“What if…” she said softly, nuzzling his neck to hide the sudden fear in her eyes.

“What if you want children one day? You’re too young to think about the mater now and when you’ll be of age, it’ll be too dangerous for me to carry one or maybe I wouldn’t even be able to.”

“Claire,” Jamie lifted her chin, looking at her eyes. He had actually thought about this so many times. For so long. And each time, he came to the same conclusion. 

“Not everyone wants bairns and there’s only one of ye, and yer all I need in this world. And besides, I dinna want to share ye wi’ anyone, ever. Maybe a wee dog,” he smiled tenderly, cupping her cheek as she melted into his touch. 

“Well, you’re saying this now –” 

“Aye and I’ll be saying it in ten years time and twenty years and all the years after that,” he smiled tenderly. 

“I dinna want ye to be in danger carryin’ a bairn, either. I dinna want to lose ye or worse, both of ye if something happens.” He gathered her into his arms, holding her close. 

“As long as ye’re by my side, Sassenach, I’m well pleased wi’ the world. I promise ye.” 

“All right, I guess I’ve run out of excuses now,” she chuckled softly, resting her forehead against his. 

“Thank Christ,” his smile widened and he placed a kiss on her temple. “Ye can’t get rid of me that easily, Sassenach. I’ve almost lost ye once, I willa risk it again.” 

Claire grinned, running her fingers lightly over his chest. “I don’t want to get rid of you, even less lose you. But I want to be certain that you’re sure about all of this. People are going to talk…”

“Well, let them talk, it’ll keep them occupied.” Jamie shrugged and smiled, holding her tight. 

“I’ve never been surer of anythin’ in my life, Sassenach. Just like I’ve never been more sure about how much I want to run ye a bath and wash yer smooth skin.” He added nonchalantly into the conversation. 

“You want to bathe me?” Claire leaned up, laughing. “But it would be more pleasurable if you were in there with me, don’t you think?”

“Aye, I think that can be arranged,” he grinned. 

Jamie sat up, and Claire started to follow him, but he held out his hand before kissing her lips chastely. “Dinna move, _mo nighean donn_ , I’ll come and get ye when it’s done.” 

Laying down flat on her back, Claire smiled, then reached over to light another cigarette. Jamie walked into the bathroom, and a moment later she could hear the sound of rushing water into the bath. 

The scot made sure the water wasn’t too hot nor too cold, and then poured in some bubbles – because he knew how much she loved them. He watched it fill up, making sure it wasn’t too full to hold both of them. When he walked into the bedroom, Claire was lying on her stomach, her feet swinging back and forth in the air. She hadn’t noticed him yet, and so he lightly smacked her arse, making her squeal and jump. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She turned and looked at him, rubbing her bum. 

“Takin’ ye to the bath,” he chuckled, then wrapped both arms around her waist and threw her head first over his shoulder. Her arse was positioned near his face and he made sure to keep a firm pressure on it so she wouldn’t fall. 

“I’m sure there were better ways to carry me,” Claire laughed as she smacked his own bum. He wiggled and yelped at the touch which only made her do it again. 

Jamie set her on her feet, kissing her before she could say anything. His hands went to the one closed button and undid it, letting the shirt fall to the ground. Pleased with himself – and the sight of her in her birthday suit – he held out his hand and helped her step into the bath before climbing in behind her. 

“Ahhh,” Claire sighed as she sank into the warm water, letting the bubbles cover her skin. “It’s perfect.” 

Jamie dipped his hand into the water, then lifted it, dripping water down over Claire’s chest in front of him. He rested his hand on her neck, lightly stroking her. “Like a swan,” he said quietly. 

“I’m like a bird?” Claire asked, resting her head on his chest. 

“Nah,” he laughed. “I mean that yer neck is so long like a swan. Ye dinna possess any of the other qualities of a bird.” 

“Oh, then thank you, I guess” Claire chuckled. “I have been complimented on my neck a few times.” 

“By who?” Jamie asked, raising his eyebrow in question. 

“People here and there,” she waved her hand in the water, grinning. “But I never felt so lovely after hearing it from your lips, my lad.” 

Jamie leaned his head and kissed her slowly, his hand moving under the water. Claire moaned into his mouth, wiggling her bottom against him. 

“Ah, Sassenach,” he whispered, biting her bottom lip gently. 

“I want ye, God do I,” his hand slid across her smooth stomach. “But would ye mind if we just laid here for a bit and I could hold ye in my arms? I missed bein’ able to hold ye.” 

“Of course, darling,” Claire smiled, content to do whatever he wanted with her and settled against his chest. For so many nights she had woken up in a sweat, wishing that Jamie was there beside her, and when she reached out in the bed and her hand came up empty, she would lie awake until morning. 

Jamie ran his fingers slowly back and forth over her stomach, then along her thigh. 

“I know you said you wanted to just lay here, but can we also talk?” Claire asked, turning her head to look at him. 

Jamie hummed and she took that as a yes. 

“Do you remember that charity event at the school? The one I saw you there with Jane about six months ago?” Claire asked and she felt his body tense underneath hers. 

“The same one that I couldna keep my eyes off ye,” he nodded and kissed her neck. 

“Well,” Claire cleared her throat. It was a bit easier to ask him about this when she wasn’t looking into his blue eyes. She also should have asked him about it earlier. 

“You did take your eyes off of me for a bit… to kiss someone.” 

“Oh,” Jamie tensed again and turned Claire’s head to look at her. “That was a mistake, I swear it.” 

“I hope it was,” Claire looked at him. “But from what I saw, you rather enjoyed it.” 

“I had a lot to drink that night, Sassenach, and I didna expect to see ye there. Besides,” Jamie wrapped his arms around her. “I was thinkin’ of kissin’ ye the whole time I was kissin’ her.”

“Charming,” she said flatly, rolling her eyes. She had never been a jealous woman and she knew how women looked at Jamie but this was slightly difficult to swallow. 

“Honestly, I should truly explain to you what to say and what not to say to a woman.” 

“Aye,” his lip flicked up into a smile, asking for forgiveness. “‘Twa no’ the best thing to say just now, I admit. I ken how she looked at me and how flirty she was wi’ me all evenin’…I think I was just tryin’ to make ye jealous so ye’d realise ye couldn’t live without me.” 

“It worked,” she assured him, smiling slowly in turn. “

I don’t want you kissing anyone else again, especially not Jane McAllister but I don’t blame you. You probably had a lot on your mind.” 

“Would it help to ken that she was the one who kissed me?” Jamie asked, trying to reassure her. “Because ye ken how irresistible I am and all.”

She smiled softly, taking his hand underwater. “I can’t blame her for that, I did the same thing, if I recall correctly.” 

He smiled fondly at the memory of their first kiss. _Chaste. Unexpected. Unforgettable._ “Aye ye did. I do recall. I couldna believe what was happenin’ to me that day.” 

Claire smiled absently, touching his cheek. “You know, after seeing you at the charity dinner I thought…I thought maybe you’d come and show up at my house at some point but then I saw you two kiss and I fled. I couldn’t sleep that night.” 

“I did walk by yer home aye,” he admitted shamefully. He had been so scared to go talk to her. He knew he should have. 

“I thought about it, Christ, I thought about it but I couldn’t do it. I thought ye wouldn’t open the door and I…”

“I broke your heart,” Claire said softly and moved Jamie’s hand to rest on her thigh. “I’m sorry, if I haven’t said that enough already.” 

Squeezing her thigh, Jamie kissed her neck. “Dinna apologize, Sassenach. All that matters is that we’re here together and that nothin’ can tear us apart now – not time, not space nor other people. I willna allow it.” 

“I love you, Jamie,” Claire whispered, turning her head to kiss him. “With all my heart.”

“And I ye, Sassenach,” Jamie kissed her deeply, holding her close for a long moment. She was back in his arms, he didn’t care about the rest. 

“And you’re sure you just want to sit here?” Claire asked after a while, opening her legs slightly and moving Jamie’s hand further to her core. 

“I could be convinced,” he lightly snorted, wiggling his fingers against her entrance. Claire’s back arched against his chest and he moved his other arm around her waist. 

“Careful, Sassenach, ye’ll splash the water.” he rasped into her ear, painting her skin with goosebumps by the same occasion. 

“Damn the water,” she sighed, and moved her own hand over his, pressing him harder between her thighs. _“Damn it.”_

Parting her folds, Jamie moved his finger slowly against her lips, watching her mouth part. It was one of his favourite sights – to watch Claire come undone by his touch. He inserted one long digit into her, moving it in and out. One of Claire’s feet pressed flat on the end of the tub, and a bit of water splashed. 

“First splash,” Jamie grinned and sped up his movements under the water. 

Claire was practically grinding against his hand, moaning with every thrust. He pressed his thumb firmly on her hard nub, and inserted another finger. 

She pressed her other foot against the tub and lifted her hips. Jamie kissed along her neck, nibbling gently and then bit down on her ear lobe. She squeaked and kicked her foot out, splashing water onto the tiled floor. 

“Second splash,” Jamie whispered and with a few more thrusts of his fingers inside of her, her walls clenched around him, and she trembled in his arms. With his other hand, he stroked her side, watching her come down from her high. 

Slowly, Claire opened her eyes and looked over the side of the bath. “Oh, there’s so much water on the ground.” 

“Entirely my fault, ye must forgive me,” Jamie laughed and then pulled them both under the water. 

**********

Jamie laid on the bed in his briefs, carefully watching Claire getting dressed in the clothes she was wearing last night. He took a puff from his cigarette and smiled, “I wish I had a camera to take pictures of ye right now, Sassenach.”

“Whatever for?” She grinned, looking at him through the mirror. 

“Because ye’re too beautiful no’ to immortalise forever.” Jamie sat up, crushing the cigarette in the ashtray. 

“To immortalise before I start to fade away, is that what you’re trying to tell me?” She couldn’t help but laugh, closing the last button of her shirt. 

“Not at all,” Jamie laughed. “I just want to have a picture of ye so I can look at it whenever I want.” 

Claire looked around the room, checking to see she had gathered all of her belongings and then came to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“I really enjoyed this time with you,” she smiled, and he moved to sit upon his knees, kissing her gently – their lips overlapping. 

“So did I, Sassenach,” he slid one hand down her back. “I’m verra grateful for ye and for the time wi’ ye. Always.” 

He kissed her again and then paused, hovering over her lips. There was something he had been too afraid to ask her, a question he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know the answer to. Claire noticed something was wrong and smoothed her hand over his cheek. 

“Is there something wrong?” She asked, looking at him interrogatively. 

“Can I ask ye a question?” He said, looking down at the bed cover. 

“Of course you can,” she replied. “You can ask me anything but I prefer to look at you though,” she pressed her hand under his chin. 

“Aye,” Jamie smiled softly, looking at her again. 

“Tis just I wondered in all that time we spent apart – did ye maybe… well, did ye have someone?”

“Yes,” Claire said bluntly, raising her eyebrows. 

Jamie dropped his head, his heart immediately sinking. He knew it was too good to be true, she was a beautiful woman and he couldn’t expect her to stay on her own forever. 

“I’m just kidding you know,” Claire laughed and stood up from the bed, ruffling his hair. “I never saw anyone, which is less than you can say young Romeo.” 

“I told ye Jane was a mistake,” he rolled his eyes, though smiling at the relief she had not been with anyone but him. “And twas just a kiss. A bad one, at that.” 

“I know,” she smirked, grabbing her trench coat.

“Do ye have to go?” Jamie asked, puppy-eyed. “Ye ken I dinna sleep well wi’out ye by my side.” 

“I’m afraid I do,” she cupped his cheek, kissing the tip of his nose. 

“Duty calls and I have some patients to attend to, but you know you don’t have to stay here.” 

“What do ye mean?” Jamie asked, watching her. 

“I do live in London now, darling,” Claire said, picking up her bag from the table.

“I have a house just as big as the one I had in Oxford…“

“And I can stay wi’ ye?” He blinked, the question escaping him. 

“You can stay with me,” Claire repeated, smiling. 

“Indefinitely. If you want to, of course.” 

“Sassenach,” Jamie said, moving off the bed to stand in front of her. His hands settled on her waist. He was giddy but he tried to control himself. 

“Are ye askin’ me what I think yer askin’ me?”

“Well, I’ve been living alone for far too long,” she looked at him, stroking a curl away from his forehead. 

“I used to think I liked my solitude but I realised I like having you around more. I enjoy my closet space but I’m ready to make some compromises for all the horrendous wool sweaters you own,” she grinned and he chuckled at that. 

“And I’ve got a bathtub and a spare desk you can use to write on – ” 

“A desk for me?” Jamie asked, feeling so happy he could lift up into the air. 

“All for you,” she agreed, pulling him closer. “You can even sleep in my bed.”

Claire kissed him then. Slowly, tenderly. Just the way she knew was enough to make his knees wobble. Pulling slightly back before he could respond she whispered against his lips, “How does that sound?”

“It sounds like I’ll be checkin’ out of my hotel today,” he grinned against her lips, his arms tightening around her waist.

“Waste of money,” she nodded, kissing his nose before she placed her key into the palm of his hand. 


	16. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it, folks. Mrs.B is wrapped! We wanted to thank everyone for the support and love on this fic – we didn’t imagine it would be so much and we’re so thankful for every one of who took the time to read, like and leave a wee comment. We hope you enjoy the epilogue just as much!

_**5 years later** _

Jamie drove the convertible along the coast, wind blowing his red curls and jazz playing on the radio. Claire was next to him, a hand resting on his thigh and a silk headscarf wrapped around her head not to make her curls look even messier than they usually did. 

Squeezing her hand, he brought it to his lips and placed a kiss on her palm, smiling against her soft skin. They had a busy life in London, between him teaching history, writing books and Claire’s time at the hospital, it had been a while they got time away. They would spend the next few weeks together -- unbothered and in peace. At the seaside, nonetheless. 

The Scot had never been to Cornwall until three years ago when they chose the destination after their small and intimate wedding in London. They both chose such a place upon Joe and Gail’s recommendation and fell in love with the town as soon as they had arrived. It looked like a painting by Courbet or Gericault, of some Italian or Spanish coast. It didn’t seem to be a place hidden in England. It looked more like paradise. _A perfect place for two newlyweds on their honeymoon, at the time._  
  
They had loved it so much, Jamie thought it a good idea to come back here this year for their third anniversary. 

“Did you put on sunscreen this morning, darling?” Claire asked her husband, poking his pink nose. 

“Aye,” he gripped the steering wheel, remembering the last time they’d been here and he had turned red from head to toe. “I willna have a repeat of lookin’ like a lobster.” 

A small bark came from the backseat, and Claire turned to see their two-year-old cockapoo, Charles trying to jump up to the front. 

“No, little fella, you have to stay back there for just a few more minutes,” she rubbed her hand over his sandy brown head, smiling. “We’re almost there.” 

“Are ye sure bringin’ Charlie along wi’ us is okay? He willna be spooked by new surroundings?” Jamie asked, signalling to turn right. 

“I’m sure he’ll be just fine, Jamie. He can play in the water and go for runs, the beach is a dog’s heaven,” Claire smiled. 

“And mine,” Jamie smiled and squeezed Claire’s thigh. “Speaking of, I have a wee surprise for ye.”

“A surprise?” she asked, curious to find out what it was. “Is it another dog? A new pool float?” 

“Set yer sights a wee bit higher, Sassenach,” Jamie smirked, patting her leg. He’d been holding in this surprise for months now, and he’d almost spoiled it on several occasions. 

The last time they were in Cornwall, they’d driven past a small beach house, one with white exterior and close to the sand. Claire had commented on how beautiful it was, and so Jamie had pulled the car over so they could peek inside. 

_“Jamie, what do you think you’re doing? People live here, we can’t just walk up and invite ourselves in.” Chuckling, she followed the scot who was creeping around the property._

_“Och, it’ll be fine, Sassenach. There’s no car parked, they’re probably out,” Jamie crouched down and tried to peer into a window. He couldn’t see much, but it looked lived in._

_“It is beautiful,” Claire remarked, touching the outside. The wind from the beach blew across her face and she inhaled, the scent of salt and sun. “It would be a dream to have a place like this right on the beach.”_

_Once he checked out the place, Jamie walked over to his wife, kissing her and wrapping his arms around her waist._

_“Maybe one day we’ll have our very own beach house, a nighean,” Jamie winked -- or tried to. “You never know.”_

_“One day,” she agreed, smiling. Together, they then walked hand in hand back to the car._

Jamie was pulling up to the same exact house now, and it took a moment for Claire to realize what was happening. 

“Did you rent it out for the month?” She asked, her eyebrows raising in question. 

“A bit longer than a month, Sassenach,” Jamie chuckled. 

“The whole summer?” Claire looked at him, confused. 

“Nah,” Jamie shook his head and shut off the car. He turned to her and reached into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. “Tis our house, Sassenach. I bought it for us.” 

Claire’s eyes grew wide, and she looked over at the house. “You bought this house? The same house we talked about three years ago?” 

“It is the same one, right?” Jamie grinned, taking another look at the house to make sure. “It went on the market awhile back, and I put in an offer, not expectin’ anything but then...”

“James Fraser,” Claire touched his cheek, tears brimming to the surface. “You bought us this house?” 

“Aye,” he kissed her tenderly, smiling. “Was it a good surprise?” 

Claire responded by kissing him back, feeling overwhelmed with the news. It was the perfect house, and now they owned it. A place to make memories and call theirs. A place to come to whenever they needed time away from their busy London life. 

“It’s the best surprise,” she stroked his cheek and kissed his nose. They were interrupted by a bark from the backseat. 

“I think Charles wants to go inside and check it out,” Jamie remarked and opened the door, letting him out. He walked to Claire’s side of the car and opened it for her, offering her his hand. 

“Thank you, my lad,” Claire smiled, getting out before she pinched his cheek. 

“Ow,” he winced, making a face. 

“Did you really put on sunscreen?” She laughed, knowing the answer already. 

“Aye, but apparently no’ enough,” he touched his cheek. “Come on, Sassenach.” 

He took her hand and led her to the front door, it was a pale blue with a charming copper knocker. Jamie put the keys into the door and unlocked it, pushing it open. 

“The previous owner left some furniture, but I had some new things picked out and delivered a few weeks ago,” he said and led them into their new house. 

“Oh,” Claire looked around the space, amazed. “It’s perfect, Jamie.” 

“I came down about two months ago to finalize the sale,” Jamie admitted and she tugged on his hand. 

“So you came here? When you said you had to go and visit your mother for the weekend, you came here?” She questioned him, grinning. 

“Aye,” he grinned, pulling her close to him. “I didna want ye to find out, so I lied. I hope ye’ll forgive me.” 

She put both hands on his chest, pressing her body to his. “Well, if you bought us a house, I don’t really have much to complain about.” 

Jamie kissed her and then felt a small wet tongue on his ankle. He looked down to see Charles at their feet. 

“I think the wee beast wants to go out to the beach. What do ye say, Sassenach? Ye can change into that white bikini of yers and we can christen the house properly later.” 

“I like the sound of that,” Claire kissed his nose. “I’ll go change while you make sure you put on plenty of sunscreen!” 

Claire grabbed her suitcase and carried it into what she presumed was the bedroom. The bed was covered with a light blue and white striped bed cover, set with pillows and a knit throw. 

“He thinks of everything,” Claire smiled to herself and then laid her bag on the bed and opened it up. She’d packed enough clothes for two weeks, although she had a hunch that she would be spending a lot of time out of them as well. She found the bikini Jamie was talking about, one that covered just enough, but left room for the imagination. 

She heard a glass door slide open and small paws on the hardwood. 

“We’ll be outside, Sassenach!” Jamie said. “I changed into my trunks in the living room!” 

“I’ll be right out!” Claire shook her head and started to take off her clothes. Once the bikini was on, she grabbed the bottle of sunscreen and her big towel, making her way to join Jamie and the dog. 

He was certainly one pale scot, almost matching the white sand. Claire walked out on the beach, it was hot under her feet and squishy between her toes. Charles was already pushing his face into the sand, getting it up to his nose. Jamie threw a tennis ball and he ran along to catch it. 

“Can you put some on me?” Claire asked Jamie, handing him the sunscreen. 

“I’d be delighted to rub yer body, Sassenach,” he said and kissed her cheek. “Turn around for me, if ye dinna mind.” 

As Jamie rubbed the sunscreen onto her back and shoulders, she noticed that there wasn’t anyone else on the beach and it was the peak of summer. 

“Do we have any neighbours?” She asked, adjusting her sunglasses. 

“Two, but miles away,” Jamie said, lifting her arm. “We have this whole section to ourselves.” 

“Well, this just keeps getting better and better,” Claire smiled and then turned to face him. 

“Would ye like me to get yer front too?” Jamie’s brow quirked up. 

“What do you think?” Claire smirked. 

Jamie squeezed more sunscreen into his hands and began to rub it onto her chest. He ran his fingers over her collarbones and then down the valley of her breasts, making sure to cover every available surface. When he got to her stomach, she squirmed and started to laugh. 

“Ye ticklish fiend,” Jamie laughed and squeezed her sides. Claire tried to get out of his reach, but he grabbed her and picked her up in his arms. “Ye’ve enough spf, Sassenach. Tis time to go for a swim!” 

“You have to let the sunscreen set for at least twenty minutes, Jamie!” Claire kicked her feet out. 

“Nah, not this kind,” he said and he was already walking into the water. When he got knee deep, he looked at Claire before kissing her, “Welcome home, Sassenach.” Then he tossed her into the air and she splashed into the ocean. 

Claire reappeared after a few seconds, her face mostly hidden by her mass of hair that was now soaking wet. She pushed them away from her face and looked at him, resting her hands on her hips. “I’m going to kill you, James Fraser.” 

Grinning, Jamie receded away from her to go back to the sand, “I thought ye wanted a wee refreshment? ‘Tis hot out here!” 

“Do you know how long it took me to have my hair behave this morning?” She asked, walking towards him. “Wait, yes. You do know because you were there watching me fight with it.” 

“Indeed I was,” his grin broadened. “I admit twas entertaining to see.” 

“Oh was it?” Her eyebrows raised in question as she approached him. 

Jamie stopped, crossing his arms, expression unchanged, “Verra.” 

His wife stopped in front of him, “You’ve got something there.” Claire looked at him, pointing down to his crotch. 

Frowning, Jamie looked down in a second. Before he had the time to do or say anything, Claire had pulled down his trunks and was running the other way. Her laugh echoing on the beach.

“Christ,” he quickly pulled them up, laughing in turn and looked at her. “Ye’re a child, Sassenach!” 

“Are you talking to me?” She asked, sitting on some rocks, further away from him with Charles on her lap. “I can’t hear you from here.” 

Shaking his head, Jamie walked over to her with a smile. “Ye can hear me just fine.” 

“You started,” she winked, leaning back to lay down on the rock. 

“Aye,” Jamie sat down next to her and kissed her salty lips before laying down next to her, grabbing her hand. “I hope ye liked yer wee surprise.” 

“Very much so,” she turned her head to look at him, pulling her sunglasses on top of her head. “I don’t know how you’ll top that one but I can’t wait to find out next year.” 

Jamie laughed, kissing her once more. “I have a year to think it through. It should be fine. Or I can just bring ye here every year and say ‘Surprise!’”

“That’s an idea,” she grinned, closing her eyes. 

Bringing her hand to his lips, he placed a tender kiss on her silver wedding band. The matching one to the ring he was wearing. He’d never tire of the sight of her delicate hand, decorated with a piece that signified their love and commitment to one another. The day of their wedding, Claire had removed the gold band from Elliot and now kept it safely in her jewellery box, instead. A simple gesture that meant more to him that he could put into words. 

It had taken a few months for his mother to finally accept Claire as the woman Jamie had chosen, but once she had they became close friends. Sometimes it was a bit odd that his mother and his wife had a lot in common, only because they came from almost the same generation. His brother had been ecstatic, happy to welcome _“such a bonnie lass”_ to the family as he said. 

They didn’t receive too many strange looks whenever they were out, holding hands on the streets. That was probably because Claire didn’t look her true age, but at most, only ten years older than him. She was gorgeous, his bonnie bride. 

“I canna believe that tomorrow, it’ll be three years ye became my wife,” Jamie said softly, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. 

“I hope I didn’t cause you to regret this, yet?” Claire looked at him, a tender smile forming on her lips. 

“Nay,” he cupped her cheek. “I just still canna believe it is all. I knew I wanted to marry ye the first moment I saw ye walkin’ down the hall on campus. I just never thought ye’d return the favour.” 

“Return the favour,” she chuckled, kissing him. “I didn’t think I’d ever get married again, that’s true. But you are rather persuasive and it’s out of the question I don’t sleep with a furnace for the rest of my life.” 

“Ouch so ‘tis the only reason why ye agreed to marry me?” He grinned. 

“No but it’s part of your many charms, my darling.” Claire sealed their lips, wrapping her leg around his waist once Charles had moved away. 

“You have no idea how glad I am you want to spend your life with me, Jamie. I wake up every morning and I still can’t believe you’re there, holding me safely in your arms and snoring in my ear.” She smirked, rubbing her nose against his. 

“Ye mean while ye snore in my ear?” He chuckled, holding her close. 

“I really should teach you the proper way to talk to a lady, darling.” She smacked his bum. “Because I don’t know how you scored a wife by talking to her like this.” 

“Truthfully, I dinna ken how I did it either,” his hands travelled down her bottom and squeezed it slowly. “All I care about is that ye’re mine. _Forever_. And I’m glad ye have space in yer heart for another man.” 

“You know,” Claire said softly, her finger stroking his scruffy chin. “Elliot was my first love. You’re my true love, James Fraser. And I had to wait a long time for you but it was worth it.” 

“And ye’re my first and only love, Sassenach.” His thumb stroked her bottom lip. 

***********

Three days later, Jamie’s shoulders were red, and Claire’s skin was perfectly sunkissed. They’d spent most of their time lounging on the beach, only braving to leave their house for food every so often. 

Today, they were eating lunch out on the sans, under the protection of an umbrella of course. Blankets and towels were laid out underneath, plus an assortment of fruit, cheese and sandwiches. Charles was happily eating his kibble, and Claire reached her foot out to pet his tail with her toes. 

“Can you pour me some more wine, darling?” Claire asked Jamie who obliged, pouring more into both their glasses. “Thank you.” 

“Is there anythin’ ye want to do tonight, Sassenach? Or just more of the same?” 

“I’m perfectly fine with pretending to read a book in bed, playing footsie with you and having sex until we both pass out,” Claire winked and took a bite of her sandwich. 

“Aye, so am I,” Jamie smirked, and rubbed his hand over her bum. “But ye aren’t gettin’ bored wi’ stayin’ home every night?”

“Why? Are you?” Claire asked. 

“Nah,” he assured her, smiling. “I prefer yer company all to myself. Just wanted to make sure ye were adequately entertained.” 

“It’s called a holiday for a reason,” she leaned over to kiss him. “You’re supposed to do nothing.” 

“And have lots of sex,” he whispered against her lips. 

“Lots of it,” she nibbled on his lip. 

Jamie dropped his sandwich onto his plate and instead filled his arms with his wife, her body stretching out over his. Her hips moved dangerously against his, and he moaned, sliding his hands along her sides. 

“We’re in public, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned, moving his hands into her swim bottoms.” 

“You said it yourself,” she kissed him. “Our closest neighbour is miles away.” 

“If anyone sees us, maybe they’ll just think we’re nappin’,” Jamie smirked, squeezing Claire’s plump arse. She wiggled her hips and then sat up, straddling him. 

“Anyone with two eyes can see we aren’t just napping,” Claire chuckled, her hands tugging on his swim shorts and pulling them down over his arse. Jamie’s fingers were touching her most sensitive area, feeling how wet she was and they hadn’t even been in the water for hours. 

“Then what are ye waiting for?” Jamie asked, gripping her hips. He helped lift her off of him so she could take hold of his cock and guide it into her. They both sighed and Claire put both hands onto his chest, beginning to rock against him. 

One of Jamie’s hands reached up and pushed aside her bikini top, flicking his fingers against her nipple. Soft moans came from Claire’s lips and he pinched and squeezed the little nub harder. Claire started to speed up, riding him faster and Jamie helped her move against him. He thrust upwards, and his foot flung sand into the air. 

Claire laughed as she came, her body folding over his and her hips slowed as his seed filled her. His hands covered her back, dusting off the sand. 

“We’re both going to have sand in places that sand should never be,” she kissed his neck. 

“That’s what we get for havin’ sex on the beach,” Jamie squeezed her bum generously. 

Claire laughed again, head buried in the crook of his neck. 

“Come here, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned, flipping them over and thrust into her again. 

**********

Hours later, they had both showered -- _thoroughly_ \-- and climbed into bed, pretending to read their own books. 

Claire was wearing her matching pyjama set of a silk short and thin-strapped top, her nipples peeking through the fabric. His wife or not, she had still this mysteriously erotic aura wrapped around her and it was Jamie’s favourite thing to witness. 

“Is your book interesting, darling? Or are you too busy staring down my top to pay actual attention?” Claire asked, not taking her eyes away from her own reading material. 

“Since ye’re askin’, I’m busy lookin’ at ye,” Jamie put his book away and turned onto his belly to look at her. “Yer body is just a magnet for the eyes, Sassenach.” 

“So I’ve heard,” she grinned, looking at him for a brief second before turning her attention back to her book. 

His fingers stroked her leg up and down while he rested his head on her stomach. Closing his eyes, he let her stroke his curly locks slowly and massage his scalp by the same occasion. 

“Jamie?” Claire said, letting her book fall against her chest. 

“Hmmm?” 

“Do you fancy going for a late night swim?” She asked and his eyes opened one at a time. 

“A swim you say?” One side of his mouth curled up. “It’ll be quite cold, I hope ye ken that, Sassenach.” 

“We don’t have to splash around for hours,” she moved the curls off his forehead. “Just a _wee_ dip.” 

“Well, if it’s just a dip, then --” Jamie leaned up to kiss her before climbing out of the bed. He grabbed Claire’s ankles, pulling her to the end of the bed. “Do yer legs work or do I need to carry ye again?”

“My legs work just fine, thank you very much,” Claire smirked, and rose to stand next to him. The rest of the house was dark, only the light of the moon shining in. Charles lifted his head from his spot on the couch, but then laid back down as they passed him. 

When Jamie opened the glass door, the smell of the ocean hit his face. He would never tire of his lips tasting like salt and his toes having sand in between them. They walked hand in hand towards the water, it was cold, unlike earlier in the day. 

“We can’t swim in our pyjamas,” Claire commented and as Jamie turned to look at her, she was already pulling off her top. 

“Christ, Sassenach,” he groaned at the sight of her. She was already one step ahead of him, stepping out of her bottoms so Jamie did the same. Laughing, he grabbed her hand and together they both ran off naked into the water. 

It was cold, just as Jamie said it would be, and they both shrieked as they splashed around. Once they were waist-deep, Jamie grabbed Claire and pulled her body flush against his, kissing her. 

“There’s nobody I would rather be naked in the ocean wi’ than ye, mo nighean donn,” he smiled, stroking her hair back. 

“Would you believe me if I told you I’d never been skinny dipping before?” Claire asked, hooking her arms around his neck. 

“I’d sure like to believe ye,” he laughed. “I like knowin’ that I’m the only one who gets to see ye and hold yer naked body in the moonlight, standing in freezin’ cold water.” 

“And you’re the only one who will ever get to see it, Mr. Fraser,” Claire stood on her toes, which proved difficult in the sand and kissed him. 

“Because ye’re all mine, Mrs. Fraser,” Jamie pressed his forehead to hers, letting the gentle waves carry them into the water. It was blissful to hold her under the moonlight. _His sorcha. His wife. He knew his life by her side would be a happy one the moment he had met her, and he was not wrong._

_After all, they did live happily ever after...and some more._

**The end.**


End file.
